Echelon
by SaVrAiNoiR
Summary: A sort of retelling starting before Christine unmasked Erik, but in this version she doesn't rip it off from the get go. Instead, a dark and beautiful romance will ensue. Raoul fans beware, he'll be falling for Meg. I don't own POTO or its characters!
1. The Lair

Who was the man behind the mask? As my soon as my hands were cupping his face his shoulders relaxed and he sighed, his fingers lightened on the keys of his piano. He exuded magnificence, majesty radiated from his very being and as I stood beside him I could feel this powerful energy pass through me.  
_  
Was_ he an angel?

Now being as close to him as I was, I quickly became aware of several details that I failed to gather the night before. His skin was surprisingly warm considering the chill of the cavern, and from where I was standing I could easily detect the clean aroma of  
lavender and sage. Slowly the palm of my hand sought out the cold porcelain mask that hid the side of his face.

Or _was_ he a Phantom?

It was perfectly sculpted and smooth, symmetrical to the rest of him, only the brow seemed to be molded in delicate sadness…the same sort of emptiness and longing that I'd seen briefly in his eye's as he sang to me.

I wanted to rip it away from him, to expose what I didn't know, to discard the depressing thing. As my hands found a better grip on his face he leaned in to me, another sigh of contentment passed his lips, and the song that he was playing swelled with feeling – pure happiness. Although I had yet to act on my thoughts and steal the mask away, guilt flooded my heart and I shrunk back a step. Surely if he was wearing one he had something to hide, something that he didn't wish to share with me. It was then that I decided that perhaps part of him was just as fragile as the porcelain he wore, and regardless of my completely justified curiosity, this was not the time to unmask him - not the night after he came in to existence, and not while he was so trusting and calm. He had the right to remove it of his own volition.

"I remember there was mist... swirling mist upon a vast glassy lake. There were candles all around, and on the lake there was a boat, and in the boat there was a man who sang wonderful things to me, about life and music, and dreams." I said quietly. "If this is not a dream, where are we and who are you?"  
He continued to play lightly on his piano, pausing only for a moment as he considered my question. I dropped my hands to my sides and waited anxiously for his answer. This whole situation was so surreal and yet I was sure that the events had not reached their climax, surely last night was only the beginning.

"Every thing that I sang to you last night was true." He said. He brought his hands towards the higher end of the piano rest them there, keeping his eyes away from me.

I had believed a false reality for such a long time…but did that change anything? Was I to hate him now, knowing what I knew now?

His words from last night were ringing in my ears '_Let your mind start a journey to a strange new world, Leave all thoughts of the life you knew before, Let your soul take you where you long to be, Only then can you belong to me' _The love, passion, and truth of his song for me was ethereal and the blazing fire it had filled me up with was still burning in my soul… and then I remembered the way that he held me against him, his hands coasting over my hips and caressing my cheeks so carefully, as if even the softest of pressure could have shattered me in to pieces. I'd known him for so long that in the moment his touch felt dangerously natural to me, but what now? It seemed that he was waiting the reckoning, after all my only real reaction so far to his advances as a teacher and a man was fainting.

"Hearing you sing... with you here – at last to know the truth…" I struggled to find the words to say, some way to accurately describe how I was feeling.

He turned to me, his brilliant eye's flashed anxiously as he waited for me to finish.

I gestured to the cavern around us with both of my hands and smiled. "Reality doesn't seem to apply to you or this place, or anything that I thought I knew before…I am very surprised. Never did I suspect that you were so close to me, or that you were a man."

"Not quite the angel you imagined and hardly a man." He practically whispered. "Do not let your eyes deceive you child." There was a fire behind his eyes now, barely evident but I could see it, and for the first time since he'd brought me down to his home I was uncomfortable. There was a darker side to him that I had almost forgotten. He was the one who haunted this place, the one who controlled the theater, who sent the mysterious notes, the one who killed those who came too close, the phantom of the opera… but when had I ever been subjected to the phantom? All he had ever been for me was a guiding voice, a teacher, my angel of music. If he meant to cause me harm I was sure that he would have found a way by now, and he would have never brought me here, never attempted to let me know him this way.

"It makes me happy to have properly met you." I said, letting my eyes fall to the floor. "Now that I know you are living, breathing… not just the voice in my head."

The Phantom placed a finger under my chin, lifting my gaze back to his, studying me closely. I couldn't breathe.  
"When you call to me, I will bring you here. If I call to you, you _will_ come. Remember that you are _my_ pupil, that your voice belongs to _me_, and death will come swiftly to _anyone_ that would hope to remove you from my guidance or this opera house." His expression was cool, the way he held my face gentle but possessive.

I drew my brows together, determined not to look away again. My heart was pounding in my chest. How ever softly he was speaking to me, the meaning behind his words echoed loudly in my mind. My voice came out as barely a whisper. "I could never dream of leaving this place, or to end our lessons. I have nothing else in this world."

He turned back to the piano. His shoulders were tense and rigid. "I understand." He said. Then, as if our conversation had smoothly ended, he returned to his music, leaving me standing behind him like an awkward fool.

There was so much more that I wanted to say and so many questions that needed answers. I wanted to know the truth or at least more of it but couldn't find the courage to interrupt him.

I watched him start to sway with the progression of his song. He seemed to gracefully dive in to its world, become one with the key's, and soon I too was drawn in to the shadowy depths of its beauty.

First there was terror and pain, followed by bounding leaps of freedom… which spiraled in to never ending darkness. Before I could stop myself I was lowering to sit beside him on the bench, facing the great green lake that surrounded us. He watched me with stiff apprehension as I made myself comfortable but flashed a gentle smile when I closed my eye's, silently urging him to continue.

"Christine." He sighed my name with affection and his song changed its path. These new joyful and carefree melodies swept me away to large open fields, carried me through them until I could practically smell the grass and clover and feel the sun warming my face. Soon I was no longer at The Angel of Music's throne, but somewhere far away in paradise, the opera house long forgotten. Fleeting memories of my childhood flashed through my mind and magic blissfully coursed through my veins, cleansing away every impurity. It had been too long since I'd felt this sort of happiness, perhaps since before my father had passed on.

"Christine?" his concerned voice startled me from my fantasy and I popped open my eye's. How much time had passed? The music had stopped and his masked face was close to mine. Tears had fallen freely from my eyes and he was holding my cheeks in his gloved hands, carefully smoothing them away with his thumbs. I blushed at this sudden contact, shocked that I hadn't noticed him stop playing to come to me. He was so close that I could feel his short, struggling bursts of breath… close enough that I could count his eye lashes, could read the anguish clearly in his eyes.

His hands were trembling. It was hard to form words with him staring at me so intensely. He was wiping away my tears individually, as if each one blighted my complexion. "Forgive me Angel, it was not my intention to make you weep." He promised sincerely.

"These are tears of joy!" I assured him breathlessly. "Thank you!"

His hands fell and he whipped around to face the piano again, as if he couldn't stand the sight of me for a second longer. "I should have never brought you here."

"But why?"

"You do not belong here in this wretched place."

"Please!" I begged unable to control myself any longer. "Why must you live in hiding? I long to understand your suffering." I reached up to grip his mask and he flinched away in horror and jumped to his feet, nearly tipping over the bench as he made his great escape.

In the blink of an eye he had swiftly put at least twenty feet between us before coming to a halt and whipping around to glare at me. All tenderness was gone from his expression and was replaced with a booming rage so strong that I could feel its static buzzing through the air. He rose a finger, pointing at me.

"_Never _seek what lies behind this mask!" he growled. "Do you understand me?"

Hot tears were forming in my eyes again. I brushed them away with the back of my hand. He wasn't making any sense. "Angel  
why -?"  
"No! I am a _monster_ Christine, there is no place for me on the surface, no room for me in your world. Soon if already by now you will grow to despise me. I should have never brought you here! In the flesh I can only bring you despair."

What could possibly make him think this way? I shakily made my way off of the bench, my knees buckled as soon as my feet hit the ground but I took several steps forward, anxious to close some of the distance that he put between us. At no point did he come across to me as a monster. Contrarily he was always brilliant, beautiful in every way – physically comparable to Adonis, intellectually he was supreme, a creative genius. For as long as I'd been a student at the opera house he was there to guide and comfort me, to show me the light where I could only find darkness. "Stop this now!" I cried. "How could you think so lowly of yourself? Your so wonderful, so talented…" my thoughts trailed to only minutes earlier when we were sitting side by side as he captivated me with his happy music, and then to when he was drying my tears with such care. "No… not a monster, to me you are still an angel."

He grinned mockingly and tapped his stony covered cheek. "That is because you cannot – will not see." His eye's narrowed in despair. _"Hardly an angel... Stranger than you dreamt it, __can you even dare to look or bear to think of me, this loathsome gargoyle __who burns in hell, but secretly yearns for heaven __secretly, secretly...__Oh Christine_." My heart broke as he began to sing, not with his magnificent clarity or radiance, but paralyzing torture.  
"_Fear can turn to love,__ you'll learn to see, to find the man behind the monster, __this repulsive carcass __who seems a beast but secretly dreams of beauty, __secretly, secretly...__Oh, Christine..."_


	2. More Time

I struggled to keep my hands steady as I tied off the gondola. The image of Christine's beautiful face twisted in anguish refused to leave my mind.  
Yes, she had begged to stay a little longer, insisted that she wouldn't question the mask again, that she still thought of me as an angel regardless of my abhorable behavior.

"Me, an angel?" I chortled sarcastically, kicking at my reflection in the shallow waters edge. I stood and watched until the ripples cleared and I could see myself clearly once again. The porcelain mask seemed even more ghostly in the dim candle light of the cavern, mocking me, taunting me…

Bringing her to my home had surely been a miscalculation. I had tried so hard to give her the musical magic that she craved and although during my song she'd been obviously enchanted, I was sure in my heart that I wouldn't be able to keep it up. The instant that I had my guard down she questioned the mask, wanted to know more, tried to achieve a greater closeness. How could I have been so foolish? In my desperation to keep her from her precious _Vicomte _I had completely changed the game, given away my position. She knew me now, knew that I was here below the Opera house… knew that I was no heavenly being, and that I had no intention of letting her go.

Being closer was exactly what I thought I wanted, but it wasn't until now that I realized that I could not always be in control and as long as that was the case, any closeness between us was inconceivable. I was no where near as handsome or perfect as the _Vicomte_. Try as I may, in the end what were the chances that _I _could rein the supreme champion of her heart? What sort of future could I promise her, here in this lair of darkness and isolation? How could art and music be enough to keep such a perfect woman alive?

In my haste to steal her away and show her my world, my feelings for her took over my ability to plot anything properly and being with her in person made it nearly impossible to think clearly. Through the double sided mirrors and from the rafters above the stage Christine was always beautiful but having her sit beside me was overwhelming, her beauty breath taking, her voice even more exquisite.

'_And in the boat there was a man'_

Her voice rang in my cavern with the clarity of a bell chorus, more pristine in her presence than I could have dreamed and much more powerful than in the chapel or on stage. To live listening to her sing at my request would be eternal bliss.  
I sighed and turned on the spot and heading towards my writing desk. I would create a solid plan, something fool proof. I had all the time in the world to make this perfect and in the end if I was successful she would be mine and the Vicomte would be nothing more than dust in the wind, a fleeting memory… but if he should become aware of my intentions I was sure that this would quickly become a cut throat competition of courtship. Someone of his status was bound to have ample training or experience in the field. I'd always loved a challenge but this time I had too much to lose…

Oh, Christine.

She took our meeting gracefully and at no point did I sense an ounce of fear, and that would help… a man, she saw me as a man and not a beast. There was a chance for me to come out on top and perhaps for once in my life this new saga would not end in tragedy…

Should I fail and she didn't fall in love with me, at the very least I would convince her to stay at the Opera House. I knew that I could be content with that, to go on as teacher and pupil as we always had… but the Vicomte could never have her. He would sweep her away to marry her and plant her in his fancy mansion never to sing again, but to be a trophy and the bearer of his children. The thought of this sort of future for my angel made me sick. Certainly he could easily find another woman nearly as lovely and be just as happy, but I would most certainly die without her company. No one else but Christine could ever fill the void in my soul, only she could ever complete me.

But where to start? I'd already given her hundreds of flowers as a proud teacher congratulates a successful student. Giving any to her now wouldn't have  
the impact that I wanted… Regardless, a flower wasn't nearly powerful enough to represent what I would need it to.

Ah, but of course the Vicomte was no doubt sitting in his chambers right now thinking along the same lines. I was half tempted to pay him a silent visit through the walls, to see if he would reveal his plan to me somehow so that I may have a better chance to counter it, but that would be cheating, childish, a last resort. Also I wasn't too sure that I could trust myself in his presence. The urge to kill him and be over with it was too tempting, and Christine would hate me for it. I couldn't live with that.

What I really needed was more time.

I'd already thwarted his original plan to take her away on his carriage for dinner last night. Perhaps more time was also the Vicomte's ultimate goal… the time to win her affection.

There was no way that I could take her out to dinner in public. Without my mask I was hideous, and with my mask the people of Paris would treat me with severe apprehension, not to mention the fact that I absolutely _loathed_ society.  
Most of all I needed to avoid my mask as an obstacle. She must never know… never see the horror. Somehow I was going to need to eradicate that curiosity all together.

Yes, I was definitely going to need to find a way to buy myself more time with her, hopefully all of her free time. If I had it my way, he would never even get a minute. Luckily I knew her entire schedule; an advantage that I was sure was on my side alone. After all the Vicomte was only a visiting patron. He had no idea how strictly this theater operated, _I _however knew ever thing there was to know about the dancing and singing cast. I knew when they ate their meals, when they took their breaks, when they practiced, when they prayed…


	3. Private Confession

**This chapter is from Christine's perspective, and I am SO SORRY for not being clearer about that before. I've been writing this in my spare time at work which hasn't really helped me keep the story organized. I'll be alternating between Christine and Erik every other chapter.**

My morning and afternoon rehearsals went by in a blur and my evening ballet warm-ups felt like absolute torture. I was so exhausted, and my mind was buzzing with every thing that had changed in the past day that I could barely even focus on my simple stretching exercises. It was true, so many things had changed and more quickly than could easily be handled. First by default I landed my first lead role as Diva, second by having dear Raoul come back in to my life, but third and most important was meeting… _him_, my dark angel, the phantom.

My eye's trailed anxiously up to the rafters half expecting – almost wanting to see something…perhaps the corner of his pressed black cloak, or maybe any second now I would hear him through the walls, calling to me, singing sweet words of encouragement… only now I knew his words would be laced with his newfound affection .

Knowing that he was real, his beautiful world nestled safely and undetected underground was fascinating and exciting. My cherished angel of music was a tangible _man_… but not the sort of man I had anticipated. I knew I should have been angry, after all hadn't he lied to me all this time? For so long he let me believe that he was an angel and I had believed him blindly, trusted his guidance and hung on his every word. My eagerness to be near him again surprised me. He was even more handsome than I could have imagined, more powerful than I had ever thought before, so mysterious, so sad… I felt terrible for even dreaming of unmasking him. It had ruined the brief time we had spent together. The silence between us as he led me back to my room was deafening and painful. If I hadn't been so curious perhaps I would still be sitting with him now, practicing our music in peace. He was undoubtedly furious with me for trying to expose his secret and even though I had begged for forgiveness, swore that I would never pry again and that I wasn't afraid to be near him, he wouldn't hear a word of it. At least I knew that I would see him again soon. He promised more lessons were to come, but when? The anticipation would ruin me.

"Why are you so quiet today – Christine your shaking!"

Meg's voice pulled me out of my thoughts and in to the present. She jumped in to my view and gracefully lifted her leg up to the beam to stretch with me.

I wondered if _he _was here and listening now… "I'm just tired from all the excitement, that's all." I lied.

She arched her brow suspiciously at me but something behind me caught her eye and she looked away, pretending to fix her long hair. "Christine! The Vicomte is watching you from the front row." She hissed excitedly under her breath.

Raoul was watching me practice? The incredible urge to turn around and seek him out was difficult to ignore. If Raoul was here in the theater, _he_ would most certainly be here somewhere too. Raoul was a dear friend to me but I doubted that would matter very much in the end. I hadn't the foggiest idea how I would be able to protect him from the phantoms wrath should it come to that. I had a feeling that if it weren't for Raoul's arrival in the first place my angel would have never appeared to me at all. Jealousy might have been a contributing factor…

"Is he?" I asked, airily. I would feign complete disinterest as long as I had to.

She turned to me again, a look of dawning spread across her face. "That's where you were last night! You were out with Raoul – how lucky you are. He is so handsome, and a prestigious noble as well."

"No! He is a dear friend to me, like a brother, nothing more. Let's talk about something else – can we go somewhere else?" I pleaded, dropping my leg to stand up straight. I didn't think I could last on the stage a minute longer. My heart was starting to pound from the anxiety. Meg was my best friend. In private I knew that I could tell her whatever I wanted and she would take my secrets to the grave… but what _was_ private anyway? Was there a single room or hall in the opera house that _he_ wouldn't be able to hear or see us? I was growing more anxious by the second, more and more aware that he was watching. I could sense his presence there with us even then.

Meg stood up straight too and took my hand in hers. "Come, we'll find somewhere private. You look like you could use the rest anyway."

She led me far from the stage and up the narrow winding staircase to the roof top, a place we often chose to spend our spare time. I couldn't have suggested a better place. How could anyone follow us here without our knowing? _He_ would have no walls to hide behind and should someone come to find us we would hear the old staircase rattling, a trick we figured out when we were children skipping practice.

We laid down on the ground to face the evening sky and briefly relished in the serenity that the roof always brought us before continuing our conversation. She spoke first.

"Where were you last night Christine? I went to your room to congratulate you on your wonderful performance and you weren't there."

I propped myself up on my elbows to face her and kept my voice as quiet as I possibly could. "The Angel of Music appeared to me and brought me to his world...but he's more than an angel, he lives in the form of a man" I struggled to find a safe and easy way to explain it to her. "Please, don't tell anyone. He would be so angry with me, and he's always listening."

Her eye's widened in shock and she flipped over to brace herself on her elbows too. "What's he like?" she whispered "Is he listening now?"

"His voice filled my soul with sweet magic, could nearly fly me to heaven itself if I allowed the chance, and he was mysterious, handsome, magnificent, yet in his eyes all the sadness in the world… those pleading eyes that both threaten and adore…" I felt myself begin to trail away in remembrance and nostalgia. My memory of the night before was already fading like a dream. "He could be listening right now and I would have no way of knowing. It seems to me that he may always be there – everywhere. I've always been able to sense him near me but now I am sure of it."

"How wonderful that you can have the opportunity to train under such a special teacher!" she gasped. "Would you hate me for being a little jealous?"

I frowned and buried my face in my hands as I recalled his gentle warning.

_"When you call to me, I will bring you here. If I call to you, you will come. Remember that you are my pupil, that your voice belongs to me, and death will come swiftly to anyone that would hope to remove you from my guidance or this opera house."_

No, not all of this was wonderful at all. "Don't be jealous Meg. He has been a fantastic teacher and a good friend, but I doubt that he will ever let me leave this place. If he has his way I'll be a slave to the theater, and his pupil for the rest of my life. I can never escape."

"Surely by now he cares enough about you to allow you happiness. You've been talking with him for years. I'll admit I haven't always completely believed you but after hearing you sing last night… you've confided in him all of your hopes and dreams, of having a simple life and a family. How could he deny you that right?"

My eye's burned as a wave of emotion passed through me. It was true; throughout my childhood I would run to the chapel and tell him everything. How I wished for a home by the sea like my fathers, to have children and a loving husband – he would encourage me to confide my hopes in to him, like any angel would, but I supposed that was only a tiny part in his game of deception. "The Angel of Music is very strict Meg." I choked. "Maybe now that he can see that his teaching has brought me to great success, he doesn't see that sort of future as a promising one for me. Maybe I belong on the stage… maybe I would make a terrible wife and mother."

She reached out and brought my hands down, holding them in her own. "I don't believe that. Any man would gladly have you, including the Vicomte. You're beautiful, you still have your virtue, and your very talented." She giggled as she mentioned Raoul. "He's a perfect suitor, you'd be insane to reject his advances, and he could give you every thing you've ever hoped for including your freedom."

I couldn't help but laugh along with her. "Raoul is truly more of a brother in my eyes. Yes, if I allow him the chance he'll try his hardest to give me every thing I'll ever want, but I could never love him like a wife loves a husband, it would be too strange." I cringed with disgust.

She stood up with purpose, pulling me up with her and brushed off her skirt. "Then you wont mind if I spend a little time getting to know him?" she looked down at her feet as her cheeks turned red from embarrassment.

"That would be fantastic! You two would make the perfect couple." A relationship between my two best friends, now that would be something worth encouraging. She was the sweetest girl I knew, and he the most gentile, light hearted man. They were practically made for each other. "I'll even suggest it to him if the opportunity arises. You should go to him now, before he retires to his bed chamber."

She jumped forward and hugged me tightly. "Thank you so much!"

As if there wasn't a moment to lose, Meg hugged me one more time before taking off to search for Raoul. I smiled as I watched her skip away with purpose, satisfied in knowing that at least one of us had a real chance at being truly happy. If I knew them both as well as I thought I did, they would be falling in love in no time, maybe they would even leave Paris and get married.

I stayed behind and lay back down to enjoy the sunrise, and then perhaps to gaze at the stars. I was unprepared to go back inside. With the darkness approaching my angel would soon be calling and I wasn't nearly ready enough for our next lesson.


	4. Vantage Point

Christine trusted in the sanctity of the rooftop, she was nearly positive that I couldn't follow her there – a fact that I'd always used to my advantage. The roof was the one and only place at the opera house that I chose never to use to speak with her and it gave her the illusion of privacy.

If the weather was perfect like tonight I always knew I would find her there, lying on her back enjoying the night sky. She was absolutely breath taking in the pale glow of the moonlight. Her fair skin would illuminate as if the light was shining from within, her long dark curls would sprawl out around her like perfect silken ribbons. In fact the rooftop was so peaceful, so quiet that occasionally even her steady breathing was audible.

I would always lay with her out of sight on top of the highest peak, a safe vantage point, not as a silent predator, but as a secret friend who longed to reach the outside world, to touch the stars just as I knew she did. From the beginning I knew that was something we had in common, the nagging urge to break free.

There were times when she would sneak through the theater and run up the spiral staircase to this sanctuary, not to take advantage of the view as she usually did, but also to suffer in silence. If she was especially upset instead of coming to me in the chapel she would hide here to cry. Christine never liked me to see her break down. Each one of her sobs would strike me like lightening, robbing me of my ability to form the proper words to soothe her. Even through the brick walls between us I could tell she could sense my struggle. From my perch with nothing but the night air to separate us, being near her during those moments was always devastating. It took all of my strength not to leap down and go to her, anything to bring her some sort of happiness, but that would have blown my cover and perhaps even frightened her away.

Tonight she and Meg Giry slipped away at the end of practice to talk there. Typically I would not have followed them. Too many times had I made the mistake of listening in and heard things that I would have gladly never known. Women had the habit of being a little too candid together for my taste as it was, especially when they were in private.

Under the current circumstances I couldn't afford to miss their conversation. I knew that Christine would confide as much as she safely could in her best friend… and she did. Perched in my usual hiding place I hung on every precious word as she recalled our meeting.

_"His voice filled my soul with sweet magic, could nearly fly me to heaven itself if I allowed the chance, and he was mysterious, handsome, magnificent, yet in his eyes all the sadness in the world… those pleading eyes that both threaten and adore…"_

She thought I was…_handsome_? I couldn't help but to smile when the word past her lips. Never in my wildest dreams did I expect her to find me attractive; it was beyond thrilling, almost unbelievable… but it pained me to know that I hadn't managed to conceal what my mask could not. My façade was difficult to uphold without a wall between us and she had easily detected my suffering.

_"He could be listening right now and I would have no way of knowing. It seems to me that he may always be there – everywhere. I've always been able to sense him near me but now I am sure of it."_

Another one of my suspicions confirmed. She _could_ feel me near her. This was no surprise considering I'd been guarding and guiding her for several years now. I too had become familiar with the flavor of her presence in the air, an extra sense or learned intuition.

_"How wonderful that you can have the opportunity to train under such a special teacher!" _she gasped_. "Would you hate me for being a little jealous?" _Meg wasn't typically this interested about the topic of my presence in the past. To my utter astonishment she now sounded almost overly enthusiastic but I didn't mind. Any form of encouragement that would lead Christine to me was very much appreciated.

Christine's expression grew sad and she covered her face with her hands, shaking her head.

_"Don't be jealous Meg. He has been a fantastic teacher and a good friend, but I doubt that he will ever let me leave this place. If he has his way I'll be a slave to the theater, and his pupil for the rest of my life. I can never escape."__  
_

Before I had too long to dwell on what she said Meg was defending me once again and it was duly noted. I would have to remember to return this kindness somehow.

_"Surely by now he cares enough about you to allow you happiness. You've been talking with him for years. I'll admit I haven't always completely believed you but after hearing you sing last night… you've confided in him all of your hopes and dreams, of having a simple life and a family. How could he deny you that right?" _

_"The Angel of Music is very strict Meg." Christine choked back. "Maybe now that he can see that his teaching has brought me to great success, he doesn't see that sort of future as a promising one for me. Maybe I belong on the stage… maybe I would make a terrible wife and mother."_

I wanted to tear myself to pieces for how much damage I knew I'd already caused. I'd become selfishly possessive of her and I wasn't sure that I would ever be able to stop. My love for Christine was so new it was dangerous and it hadn't come to a head until that pathetic _boy_ had arrived at the opera house.

Meg reached out and took Christine's hands in hers, giving them an affirmative squeeze._ "I don't believe that. Any man would gladly have you, including the Vicomte. You're beautiful, you still have your virtue, and your very talented."_ She giggled as she mentioned Raoul. _"He's a perfect suitor, you'd be insane to reject his advances, and he could give you every thing you've ever hoped for including your freedom."_

Oh god it was true. I was nowhere near prepared or equipped to give Christine that kind of life - not without at least a few months leniency for careful planning involving little to no sleep and quite a bit of time without being able to be near her. But how could I bring myself to subject her to a future with me in the first place? It wasn't realistic for me to think that way, yet I still couldn't help but try.

Was this the moment where Christine would finally verbalize her affections for the Vicomte? Now it was my turn to bury my face in my hands, peeking through my fingers as I waited with bated breath for her reply.

_"Raoul is truly more of a brother in my eyes. Yes, if I allow him the chance he'll try his hardest to give me every thing I'll ever want, but I could never love him like a wife loves a husband, it would be too strange."_ she cringed and her nose turned up in disgust.

A wave of elation passed through me with exceptional force. He would hardly be a hindrance to my companionship with her at all. There was still time for me to succeed. As of now what I wanted and what was possible were in completely separate realms but I was determined to find a way to bring them together. I _would_ find a way.

Meg then jumped to her feet, pulling Christine up with her and straighted out her skirt. _"Then you wont mind if I spend a little time getting to know him?"_ she looked down at the ground and turned crimson red.

_"That would be fantastic! You two would make the perfect couple. I'll even suggest it to him if the opportunity arises. You should go to him now, before he retires to his bed chamber."_ there was no hint of hesitation in Christine's response.

Her friend jumped forward and embraced her one more time before turning on her heel and sprinting through the door to the stairs. When the door was closed she found her favorite place in the middle of the roof and lay down on her back, eye's wide with wonder as she gazed in to the setting sun.


	5. In to the Deep

Soon after the moon hung heavy amongst the clouds the night air turned cold and damp. I tried to bare through it and enjoy the stars a while longer but I knew that I needed to get back inside or I would be late for my lesson. I stood and tipped my face up to the sky, taking in a long steady breath and exhaled slowly.

Would everything go on as usual tonight? Would I meet my teacher in the chapel where we always sang to each other blindly, or was he planning on luring me back in to the depths of his musical kingdom? Would he come to me with his voice alone or was he going to grace my presence as a man? After last night I wasn't sure he trusted me the same way as he did before. Maybe I would never see him again.

I took another deep breath, forcing myself to remain calm. Whatever was going to happen I doubted it would be anything predictable. My eye's fell on the door to the theater and the hair prickled on the back of my neck. Suddenly the idea of sneaking through the dark theater at night was horrifying.

The theater was deafeningly quiet, empty, and it felt like every gargoyle and siren statue adorning the walls was closing in to snatch me away. All of the stage hands had retired for the night and not a single candle was still burning to guide me on my path. Even though I made sure to step lightly the sound of my feet echoed as I tip toed across the stage to the west wing. As I made my way through the darkness I decided not to head to the chapel, but to go once again to my dressing room to meet him. At least there I knew I had the chance to catch a glimpse of him if he would let me. I almost _needed_ to see him - anything to verify that he was indeed real. If I could at least solidify that fact in my mind a part of the mystery would make sense to me.

I ran my hands along the wall of the corridor, feeling my way down until at last I found the cold brass handles to the dressing room.

_"Chrissstine." _the sound of his voice calling my name reached out to me from the shadows. It could have come from anywhere.

"_Angel I hear you_." I sang my quiet reply in our secret language of music as my heart burst in to a frenzy, pounding against my rib cage but I remained composed and continued on my quest through the door, closing and locking it behind me.

My candles were already lit and burning brightly. I brought my hands to my eyes as they strained against the light. "Angel where are you?" I asked, peering out in front of me. I gasped aloud. The mirror was wide open, exposing the golden sconce lined passageway and he was there, braced against the frame.

"You've kept me waiting." he said pointedly. He reached out his hand just as he did the night before to silently invite me in to the depths with him but the look in his eyes wasn't cool and confident. His brows were drawn together with concentration and his jaw was set tight and hard. Even then I could still detect a little softness there, hiding sweetly in the corner of his mouth. He was anxious.

There was nothing to be afraid of.

I walked forward and took his hand. There was no warmth on the surface of his glove, as if he'd been outside for hours. Before I could begin to wonder why, he was leading me forward, the chubby cherub arms grasping the bases of the candles on the walls twisted around us, and every few steps he would glance back at me. His warmth returned quickly in his hand, his confidence growing rapidly by the second. Each time he looked at me my eyes fell girlishly to the ground and soon I was smiling. Whatever I had against him and however overwhelming he was to be near, everything was going to be fine. It wasn't until we reached his great black horse that he turned to me and spoke again.

"We will dine before anything else." he said lowly, letting go of my hand.

Holding my breath I took the chance while we were standing there to look up in to his eyes and my mouth fell open. His were already burning in to mine. What was - _who_ was this perfect being before me? Did he have a name? I exhaled sharply and nodded yes. My stomach was after all totally empty. I laughed inwardly at myself for realizing this was the first time that it occurred to me that he _ate _anything at all. He was a man, not an angel or a god even if he looked and sounded like one. Did he _feel_ like one? I wished that he was still holding my hand, or that I could recall what the skin felt like on his face against my fingertips.

He bent down and clasped his hands together to give me an easy way in to the stirrup. I timidly obliged and turned around to face the front of the horse and stepped back in to his hands. He was as steady as stone as he rose up and took all of my weight, bracing me on to the saddle, and when he was sure that I was secure we were once again on our way down the widening passageway.

"Does your horse have a name?" I asked. I leaned forward to pet it's long muscular neck and smiled. Spending all of my time working in the theater left me little time to be close to any horses aside for the ones the stagehands used to move some of the larger backdrops, but Madame Giry would never allow us to ride them for fear of us injuring ourselves and being unable to dance again.

"He is called Caeser."

"Angel?"

"Yes?"

"Do you have a name?" I swallowed hard and waited for him to answer my question.

"I have had many names." he said slowly, keeping his eyes in front of him. "Angel is just as much my true name as the rest of them."

"But what about your given name?"

His shoulders tensed and he turned to look at me. First I thought he was angry but he quickly relaxed and faced ahead again. We were almost to the boat now, almost there...

"It was Erik if you must know."

I thought it was perfect but somehow I wasn't too sure that it was a name he wanted me to call him. "I can still call you Angel." I assured him, blushing "I don't want to displease you again, I should know better than to pry."

Caeser stopped at the waters edge and _Erik_ was back at my side. He offered me his hand again and I grasped it tightly as he helped me to the down to the ground and in to the gondola.

"You could never displease me Christine." he promised.

He tugged the tie loose on his cloak and swirled it off of his shoulders to lay over the top of mine. I gratefully gripped it's soft edges and pulled it around myself, drawing my knees up underneath against my body. I'd been cold since I was on the roof and the fabric of his cloak was already warm and cozy.

"Forgive me for my abominable behavior. Living in solitude can make it difficult to understand what you may consider common things, like your innocent curiosity. I will prove that I can adjust with time, if you'll let me."

"Of course." I smiled with a nod. I would give him all the time in the world.

He stepped on to his perch at the back of the boat and started to push us through the water and in to the darkness that would briefly separate us from his lair. His song alone would light the way while I drank his words eagerly, hypnotized once again.

_"You have come here,_

_trusting me and my voice alone.  
_

_Willingly letting me take you through hell,_

_through this emptiness, darkness,  
_

_To sweet musics throne  
_

_I still wonder,  
_

_If you will grasp the whole of this.  
_

_Will you surrender to fantasy or run off,__  
_

_and leave me to silence,  
_

_silence...  
_

_I can show you,  
_

_help you make all of your hopes come true.__  
_

_If it can be wished it can be granted  
_

_in my world,  
_

_this place only for music...  
_

_music..."  
_


	6. Crystal Glasses

**Hello all! THANK YOU for taking the time to read on this far, and for all of your friendly reviews. I don't think I would've bothered to write as much as I have without the encouragement!**

Christine came to me, she trusted me. I could have ruptured with joy at such a feat but had to keep my exuberance a secret. Although I knew I was falling in love with this beautiful creature, she couldn't know. Not until I could be sure that I had these feelings in check somehow or at least understood them enough to pretend. If she had gone to the Vicomte tonight or if she answered Meg's questions in his favor, I would have probably killed him. If she were to run to him tomorrow he might still suffer the same fate. I was not in control yet. Still, being on the edge meant that I could fall either way and I planned to use her soothing presence and whatever was left of the good in me to push me in the right direction.

While Christine lay on the roof I was sure she would stay there until the sun was down. I took the chance to give Madame Giry the orders to deliver a feast for two instead of one. After her endless rehearsals and my being propped up on the catwalk all day we were both famished. No lesson was worth having on an empty stomach. The perfect excuse to dine with her.

Normally I ate my meals wherever I was working. Every square inch of every surface in my lair was typically cluttered with my possessions and half written sheet music. The only suitable area I could think of was a small padded and tapestry lined cove carved out of the stone wall behind the organ that over looked the storage room that held my instruments. In the center sat a low round eastern tea table and that was where I arranged the food. We would be comfortable enough but unfortunately sitting on the ground.

Just as the night before, her eye's were wide as she stared at me, open mouthed and almost smiling, so far only speaking when spoken to -aside for when she pressed me for my name, immediately apologizing as if she'd crossed some invisible line. Initially her questions would be difficult for me to answer but I'd resolved to answer them when possible. I knew everything there was to know about Christine and she deserved a chance at the same advantage even if it made me uncomfortable. As enemies whatever knowledge she gathered from me now would only serve her escape. I didn't like to think that way but realistically, should she ever manage to pry off my mask she would run, if not for the horrid sight of me, my wrathful reaction. Even then I doubted my own strength to stop myself from pursuing her.

Now I was tying off the gondola, she was still dazed from my song that I sang as we traveled through the water. Perhaps the truth and the subliminal warning in my words had gotten through, she hadn't spoken a word in quite awhile. Yet when I offered her my hand to help her on to the shore she took it willingly, allowing me to continue holding it as we made our way to the cove.

Her silence drove me insane! Was she angry? Was she afraid? I glanced behind me to see her face expecting the worst but when I met her unwavering gaze she flashed a toothy grin and tightened her fingers around mine.

"I am so glad to know that this is all real and I wasn't dreaming." she sighed. Still smiling, her curious eye's traveled freely around my home, falling for longer on some items than others. Especially my replica of the theater. Currently it was still set for her last performance and her beautiful figurine dressed in white stood center stage. "Have you ever brought anyone else?"

Was she joking? "No." I replied curtly.

"But...why?"

Another frustrating question but at least my answer would please her. "No one else has ever been worthy of this place. I've lived here for most of my years - created it for music and solitude."

We reached the cove and I couldn't help but smile when I noticed Christine was still wearing my cloak which was much too large for her. She clutched the extra fabric at her side in careful folds, unwilling to wrinkle the fabric.

From what I'd witnessed in my time at the theater it was customary for a man to take a ladies coat. I released her hand and moved behind her. Would she let me help lift it from her shoulders?

She tilted her head to look back at me, doe eye'd and gently smiling and parted the cloak by lifting her arms slightly at her sides. "Thank you." Always a lady, always polite.

The trap door to my passages beneath the stage was directly above us and where we stood was where I dropped to land - which was the purpose of the padded floor. After dropping down and securing the latch on the small door I would always toss my cloak behind me and over the top of the organ, eventually it would land perfectly on the bench every time. So now, after carefully pinching its shoulders, I pulled the cloak away and threw it behind me before she could turn around - and just in time! She whipped around to face me, beaming like a child.

"This is beautiful, Angel! Like something out of a fairy tale."

Every reply I thought of would've exposed my feelings for her even further but the heat that rose to my cheeks was unavoidable. She _liked_ this place? I admit the selection of food on the table was exquisite. Giry knew that Christine was my guest, was aware that I was now going to be giving her personal lessons in my home. I laughed and pulled off my gloves, moving past her to sit in my place. "The sooner we eat the sooner we can get to your lesson." Admittedly it was difficult to sit on the floor and still remain in proper posture. I had to stretch my legs out to the side and brace myself on my arm. She was small enough to tuck her legs beneath her as gracefully as a swan.

My cherished Christine was here and willing to dine with me.

The first time she lifted her spoon to her lips I almost dropped mine. The same stirring feelings I had the first time I brought her here and touched her resurfaced... _how strangely sensual it was to watch her eat_... and then her first sip of wine, the way it stained her lips... She started going on about todays rehearsals and I found myself nodding along, mostly pretending to listen. After all I'd been there today watching the whole time.

We could have been sitting there for an hour or more and I would've never known... and then the food had all been cleared and she jumped up to look over the railing at my instruments.

"What a vast collection you have. I see every piece of an orchestra, even a harp, and what are all of those water filled glasses for? Oh and -" she gasped and covered her mouth with her hands. "I'm being obnoxious aren't I?"

If it was my instruments that made her this happy I would gladly play her every last one of them but there wasn't enough time left in this night. My chest tightened when I realized that eventually I would have to bring her back to her room.

Brushing aside my sadness I went to her side and placed my hand at the small of her back to guide her. "Come, tonight we will practice carrying a tune with those crystal glasses and you'll see just why I keep them filled."

Without my gloves as a barrier it was much easier to feel the heat of her body as I led her down the stairs. Never had I had this much welcomed contact with any person before, not even my own mother. The rose color that flooded her cheeks while I was in contact with her was splendid and more than anything in the world I longed to reach up and touch the pink skin, but I wouldn't. Not tonight.

When we reached the glasses on the table she stepped away from me to lean over and inspect them all carefully.

"And how exactly do you make sound with these? Is there some sort of tool you use?" her eye's were wide again, as if she was expecting me to perform some sort of great magic trick.

I unbuttoned my cuff links rolled up my sleeves as I explained. "For this to work effectively the glasses must be made of fine crystal. Each one is then filled with a measured amount of water depending on the tune you wish them to carry. All thirty together work as a glass harmonica that can accurately carry three octaves." I dipped my fingertip in to one of the cups and ran it around the lips narrow edge. Her jaw dropped with surprise at it's delicate clarity and she came to stand directly beside me, close enough that I could smell her rose perfume... I took a sharp breath and continued, "Technically there is much more involved but I'll spare you the scientific explanation for now. What I would like you to do is replicate each note that I play, one by one. After you've covered your natural range we can end the night."


	7. Awakenings

**Sorry this took longer than usual. Dunno if I've mentioned this before but I don't really have a _plan_ for how I want this story to go... so as your reading (and THANK YOU for reading!) if you feel as though there's something you like/don't like, or a direction you want the plot to jump or dive PLEASE review and tell me so. Your opinions have fueled me to continue writing so far and I will energizer bunny the shit out of this as long as there are readers :) haha pardon me. **

I stood in complete awe as he stroked beautiful sound out of the seemingly common glasses. He didn't mind that I was pressed in as close as I was, practically hanging over the table.

"I think I'd rather like the scientific explanation." I said, meeting his eye's. "I've never seen anything like this before." He opened his mouth as if he might answer, took a deep breath and turned his face away, giving me only his mask to judge his expression. He gripped the edge of the table and his head hung forward. What was this? How could his mood shift so quickly?

"Another night, we're running out of time." he grumbled.

I tried to keep myself from frowning but couldn't help it. Up until now I'd been so happy just to be with him that it felt as if time no longer existed. Just a moment ago it seemed he was enjoying himself just as much as I was and now he was unreadable. In the past when he was short with me I didn't have this face to face advantage. Near the end of our lessons before he sent me away did he hunch over like this behind the chapel wall?

Slowly, cautiously I brushed my hand along the ridges of his knuckles and leaned in, bending low to try and see his face. His eye's were squeezed shut but as I drew closer he opened them wide to stare at me. His eye's were so... I found myself leaning closer to get a better look, they were blue, and yet so green... There was an unmeasurable amount of depth and power behind them, the most moving eyes in the world. He was taking short shallow breaths and it caused his shoulders to rise and fall. Now I too was planted on the spot, unable to move or think yet somehow through the haze in my mind I managed to find what I'd originally planned to say. "Angel, are you alright?"

He straightened his posture and cleared his throat. An awkward smile hinted around his mouth and the sight of it cause my heart to flutter rapidly in my chest. The fire he'd ignited in my soul as he sang to me the night before was warming again, still settled somewhere in my stomach.

"Of course." he breathed, taking a lock of my hair and spinning it between his fingers. "I only worry that the time your current schedule allows for our lessons is less than satisfactory. Don't you agree?"

A chance to gain more than a few hours a night with my teacher... with Erik? "Yes." I said truthfully. Not that it mattered anyway. Madame Giry would notice my absence. I could hardly get away with disappearing for longer than I already was and even if I managed to get away with that much, the lack of sleep would kill me. "But I can't. Madame Giry and the managers would never allow it."

"They will do as I say." His brow narrowed in concentration and he began tugging the curl straight, letting it bounce back again. This too evoked strange stirring feelings inside of me. What was happening? The air between us grew warm and thick and I could barely catch my breath. "Have you already forgotten that _I _control this opera house?"

"No." I was trembling now. Did he notice? My ears were ringing and little flashes of light dancing like happy fireflies started to blot my vision. I was on the edge of fainting again and noticing this only made me more anxious. Collapsing every time he brought me to his home wasn't a habit I wanted to start.

"And even if it angers Giry and the managers, if I call to you, you will still come?"

"Yes!" How many times, how many ways would he ask me the same question? My lips felt numb now and the ringing in my ears grew louder... He rest the curl and his palm against my collar bone, looking confident and pleased with himself. Maybe he noticed the effect he was having on me.

His lips twisted in to a crooked smile and he stepped away with a bow. "Christine, you're weary."

I shook my head no and smiled back, feeling like an absolute fool. With some distance between us all of my senses quickly returned to normal. Perhaps if could remember to breathe properly when he touched me, fainting wouldn't be such a silly concern. I didn't feel like he was my teacher anymore at all, or even a friend. He was a _man _and I was very aware of that fact now. A man that had no trouble making me weak in the knees - something that no one else had ever managed to do to me, and now I was embarrassed beyond words.

"I don't believe you." he chuckled. "Your heart is pounding and you can barely breathe. Tonights lesson is adjourned. I wont have you fainting here again."

He was planning on bringing me home, wasn't he? "But -"

"We will resume as soon as you're awake in the morning - and yes I know that you'll miss your ballet rehearsals. The troupe can survive without you for a day. Your singing is far more pertinent than your dancing." his tone was stern, almost fatherly. There would be no arguing with him. Still, having all of this to come back to as soon as I woke up was more than promising. All of the concerned apprehension towards him that I had before was gone now and replaced with curiosity and excitement.

With tomorrow's lesson in mind I was thrilled to be going to bed. The sooner I fell asleep the sooner I'd be back with Erik. Still, as we climbed up the stairs and back through the cove to his throne room I knew I didn't truly want to leave. I almost wished I had fainted, maybe then I would have simply woken up there instead. As we passed the organ, he retrieved his cloak from the bench and draped it around my shoulders and -

"Wait!" he'd just taken my hand in his to help me in to the boat and I stopped on the spot, touching the cloak with my free hand and scrunching up my face.

"Is there something the matter?"

I cocked my head to the side, thinking hard. Wasn't he the one to take the cloak away? Not once did he leave my side, how could it have been laid down on the bench so neatly? "I don't remember taking this off near the organ... wasn't I wearing it before we ate?"

"Yes you were." he said, tugging me gently forward and guiding me down in to my seat. "And yes you are." he said under his breath, looking down at me warmly. In a flash the affection vanished from his face as if it was something I was never meant to see. "Remember Christine that everything here is an illusion. Nothing is as it seems, and in the end should you have to choose between trusting your soul or your eye's - close them, or your mind will betray you."

_"Lesson learned."_ I thought bitterly. He was never going to give me an explanation, and after this incident I was sure there were more strange happenings to come that I'd have to ignore. The man liked to keep his secrets.

All the way back to the path in front of my mirror he sang the same song as he did before and once again all thoughts evaporated from my mind and I was entranced by Erik's magnificence, and the dark beauty of the deep, winding tunnels in the water. It was difficult to focus when he used this power of his over me. He might have in truth been only a man but he had something more than the rest. Every time he looked at me I involuntarily swooned and smiled but when he took my hand to lead me through the candle lined passageway I was startled back to reality. This night was about to end and the outside world was only a few paces ahead.

Walking behind him I took the chance to watch how his broad shoulders moved with every step beneath his waist coat. I wondered how strong he was. Having never seen him without layers of clothing on I had no way of knowing. Before I could begin to imagine him without the coat we were at the mirror and he was pushing it aside.

"Tomorrow when I wake, should I call to you or will you come for me?" I asked, stepping over the threshold and on to my plush carpet. My room felt ugly and cold compared to the magical place behind me.

"That will solely be determined by what time your head leaves the pillow."

I looked at him to laugh but was immediately distracted by the warmth and thickness that had come back to hover in the air between us. Never looking away from my eyes for a second he brought my hand up and deliberately, slowly brushed his lips along my fingers. It was the common gesture of a parting gentleman and yet his lips felt... This time I reminded myself to breathe and after taking a few long steady breaths I managed a smile.

"Good night, Christine." he whispered, holding our gaze a little longer.

"Good night, Erik."


	8. Getting Ready

**Continuing on a little longer in Christine's perspective. This will be a short chapter. Forgive me! I would have done more, but I'm exhausted. Another chapter is in the works though!**

The moon was cast high in the night sky as I made my way through the dead forest. Without any shoes on, every step forward was painful but I had to continue on even though I had no idea where I was going. My angels voice was calling my name somewhere off in the distance...

"_Chrissstine_."

"Angel where are you?"

"Christine!"

I let out a scream of sheer terror and opened my eyes. Meg had me by the shoulders and was shaking me awake. The dark forest, my bleeding feet, it was all just a terrible dream.

"Well you don't have to scream like that! It's only me!" she laughed and let go of me to jump in front of the mirror. "How do I look?"

With a miserable groan I rolled out of bed and arched my back, reaching towards the ceiling. Meg was twirling on her toes and admiring herself in the mirror. Honestly she looked very pretty. She must have spent at least an hour pinning up her hair in to a twist, and her silk white dress was gorgeous... and then all of my attention fell to the black and gold cloak resting on the back of my chair at the vanity. Erik's cloak.

_Oh no_! I ran to the window and looked outside. The sun was out and gleaming on top of the cobblestone street below and I could just make out the florists setting up their booths at the corner. "Meg what time is it?"

"It's only eight." she rolled her eye's at me and focused back on her reflection in the mirror. "Are you going to tell me what you think of my dress?"

"You look like a princess." I said approvingly. I walked to my wardrobe and swung the doors open wide. What would I wear today? For the first time in my life I felt self conscious about my appearance. As soon as I could get Meg out of my room I'd be with Erik, which didn't really give me very much time, but I wanted to look nice too. "Whats the occasion?"

"I went to Raoul just as you told me to, and oh Christine he's _wonderful_." she squealed. "He's handsome and smart and kind and he's taking me out to walk through Paris today! I told him to meet me here at your room... which should be any minute now. Would you care to join us?"

I shook my head vigorously. "No Meg I can't, I have a lesson with my tutor this morning. I barely have enough time to prepare as it is." I decided on a ruffly pale pink dress, one that didn't require a corset and would allow ample breathing. Dragging the dress behind me I rushed to my dressing screen and stripped down. I took full advantage of the water basin, sponging myself clean faster than I'd ever tried and the shocking chill of my wet skin was painful.

"Didn't you sing with him last night?"

"Yes... but we didn't have a chance to finish our lesson."

"What does he look like anyway?"

"He's..." I pulled the dress over my head as I thought of an accurate way to describe him. "He's tall..."

"And?"

"Fair skinned - almost as fair as I am, but there is always a hint of warmth in his face... somehow."

"And?"

"He looks like an angel, a night angel." I said, stepping out and sitting down at my vanity. By the grace of god not a single curl on my head was out of order, but still I fussed. I decided to pull it up in to a bun and took a handful of pins out of the center drawer. "His hair is as black as midnight and eyes are sharp and deep." I frantically started collecting locks of my hair and twisting them in to place. I'd already said too much and hoped that he wasn't listening.

"How old is he?"

That was an excellent question. How old was he? I bit my lip and squirmed in my chair. "I'm not sure... but not old."

Sharp knocking on the door startled us both enough to jump. It was Raoul, out of breath and rosy cheeked. Meg didn't even bother to ask if I was ready for him to come in - thankfully I was. He held a massive colorful bouquet in his hands and a great big grin on his face. He looked so happy even I couldn't help but to smile, and the way that Meg's face lit up when he came to stand inside the doorway... I knew then that everything was as it should be. The two of them were made for each other. She took the flowers gracefully from him, inhaling deeply, and he watched her with pride the entire time. They both insisted that I come, but seeing them together only made me more anxious for when my angel would fetch me.


	9. A Change of Plans

**While writing this chapter I listened to Edvard Grieg (Arietta is my favorite) and Chopin (gotta love Nocturne op. 9 no. 2) Sometimes I wonder if while I'm writing that the music I listen to bleeds through my words at all. If that's the case let me know and I'll try to keep my music in line with the story. At first I was listening to the POTO soundrack for inspiration, but now that I could recite all of the songs in my sleep _and can't get them out of my head to save my life_ I'm just going to try and keep it classical for a while.**

When I made the trip to her room I was expecting to find her peacefully asleep, but when the light of her mirror came in to view through the darkness of the passageway I was surprised to see movement.

Everything had gone so perfectly last night that my confidence had grown ten fold, but seeing her shadow rush around in the distance caused my strength to fade. If she was awake, why hadn't she bothered to call to me?

I crept forward, careful not to make a single sound and my chest tightened with every step. I needed to know what was causing this delay before making myself known, especially if it had anything to do with the Vicomte. Then again, even if he was there, what would I do? Burst in and steal her away?

Relief washed over me as soon as I reached the glass. Everything was alright. Christine was alone and sitting at her vanity and -

Oh, _Christine_

For as long as she lived at the Opera house I had never known her to fuss over her appearance aside from before her performances. Yet there she was now, hanging a pair of clear jeweled baubles from her ears and looking absolutely _stunning._ I almost felt guilty for peering in at her now, standing there like a voyeur - like that disgusting Bouquet who I had caught numerous times squinting through his handmade peep holes at the dancers. It seemed like only days ago that my Christine was little more than a child but in truth she had grown in to a beautiful woman, and in the soft pink dress that she was wearing, with her curls all carefully placed on top of her head...

_My God! Christine!  
_

The dress did not cover her shoulders, and with her hair pulled away, her flawless cream colored flesh was exposed from the top of her breast to her long beautiful neck. In truth she was dressed as a respectable lady, but to me, having never seen her this way before, it was almost too much. Technically this was the first time she had ever been allowed a morning away from her rehearsals and I wondered if that was why she chose to fine tune her appearance. Or perhaps she was trying to be more beautiful - if that were even conceivable, for me. It was a small chance to hope for, but it was still possible.

How could I possibly take her down to my home now? As vast as the cavern was, with my Christine and all of her angelic glory existing anywhere in it, each room would feel just a little too small.

I pinched the bridge of my nose and closed my eye's in frustration. This was going to be a very trying day.

"_Chrissstine_." I sang her name, as I always did. "_Chrissstine_."

I watched as she practically jumped out of her chair, turning back halfway to grab my cloak, and hurried to the mirror. "_Angel I'm here, is it time for our lesson?_" she was smiling ear to ear with joy and now that she could gage my exact height from memory, although she could not see me, she was looking straight in to my eye's.

My confidence returned almost instantly. In her eye's I could see that everything would be fine, everything was as it should be._ I could do this_.

I flicked down the latches holding the mirror in place and eagerly pushed it aside. Had the thin glass somehow protected me from her before? Not only was she a sight to behold but she radiated pure, unrestrained beauty as powerful as the unyielding sun. My breath hitched out loud, out of my control but she didn't seem to notice. She only waited there patiently for me to act and -

I had been staring.

She lifted up my cloak in to the air, offering it to me. "I am so sorry, I intended to give this back to you before we parted. I hope that you weren't cold." Christine was worried about my well being. No one had ever truly worried about me in such an innocent way.

I took the cloak and draped it around her shoulders, smirking. It would smell like her when she returned it to me, and I would have a piece of her always. "Traveling through the tunnels has been a longtime hobby of mine. Not even the waters chill can disturb me." I stepped back to offer her my hand and she placed her fingers on to mine without a moments hesitation. I held them down with my thumb as if she were the most delicate flower in all the world. Not a single petal would be displaced.

"None of the candles are burning." she stated nervously, peeking around me to study the darkness. Her eye's grew wide as saucers and darted back up to me. "Angel, how will we ever make our way?"

I chuckled loudly and gave her hand a gentle tug. "The same way that I arrived, Christine. There is nothing to fear."

"But _why_ are the candles not burning?"

_Damn_. I would have to remember to bring a torch next time. It was thoughtless of me for not considering that the pitch black would frighten her. An innocent girl like Christine wouldn't be accustomed to dark underground passageways, and I hadn't thought to bring Caeser up the steep path either. "The candles only begin burning at nightfall."

She reached up and took hold of my arm, gripping me tightly. "I trust you." she said. "I'm just being a silly child, thats all."

With her holding on to my arm like that, I felt like more of a man then than I had in my entire life. I would always protect her - not that there was anything in the passageways to be concerned about. No one had ever sought solace through physical contact with me before, let alone trusted me enough to do so. If she were to hold on to me this way every time we took this journey, I would _never_ bring a torch. "There is a lantern on the gondola so there will be light as soon as we reach Caeser." I assured her, leading the way. "We only have a short stretch to go."

As we moved onward her grip relaxed, but she never let go and she couldn't see but I was smiling. When the horse was in view she sighed with relief and brought both of her hands down my arm to take my hand instead.

"He's such a magnificent horse." she said. "Does he ever get the chance to be outside?"

I glanced over at the gondola and decided against the whole morning I had planned. The horse brought Christine happiness and there was a meadow that we could go to on the surface undetected. Riding Caeser out of the tunnels was normally a nightly activity for me but this morning I could make an exception. It would be a twenty minute journey through the tunnels but the idea of seeing her in the light of day was more than tempting. I bent low, clasping my hands together. "He'll be outside of this place in no time at all, the sooner we climb on to his back."


	10. Eden

**This chapter is based off of somewhere I used to run to as a kid (starting at ten years old). I know, a meadow, so cliche, but it was the most magical place in the world. To get there my friends and I carved out a pretty wicked trail system through four different properties that were wide enough for quads and snowmobiles (just in case). At the end of the first set of trails you reach this old stone farm divider covered in barbed wire and poison ivy. If your tough enough to climb over the top through the tiny path we were able to make you hit a massive old cattle field. Honestly crossing the field is the hardest part! The ground is all rigid and bumpy and the grass grows high, and randomly you'll always hit standing water - if it's spring or winter the whole thing is flooded, and if that's the case it's actually safer to brave the freezing cold and travel barefoot. That way your shoes and socks are still dry by the time you reach more forest. I can't even begin to tell you how many animals I ended up having to rescue out there throughout the years. After you spend enough time anywhere you know it all like the back of your hand, including when to help something in need - like an abandoned nest of baby rabbits, or a lost fledgling. You also learn how to avoid disrupting deer, how to avoid the coyote clusters - I'm probably boring you to tears right now aren't I? Anyway, after getting across the field you hit more trails which lead to our "base camp". We dug out a fire pit, brought tarps out for a little shelter, and that was our spot to go. The parents hated it. Just outside of camp a little deeper in to the woods there was a place we called "the fallen tree" but it was more like... maybe fifteen or twenty massive trees, all knocked down in the same direction from a nasty storm - possibly a tornado touched down for a second or two. At the base of every tree the roots were all pulled completely out of the ground forming water holes (which was SO COOL). While wandering away from camp one day at first thinking I was going to the fallen tree, I spontaneously went off the path and thats when I found my secret meadow! Over time I treated it a little more like a garden and I pushed a path from it back to camp. The only people that knew about it were the friends that I brought there. So in this chapter and the next I'm going to use my meadow as a reference, therefore making it immortal in some way even if it doesn't really go with the typical POTO plot.**

**^^^^^entirely too long of an introduction! haha!^^^^^  
**

From what I'd learned when we rarely used a horse for an act on the stage, it was never appropriate for a lady to ride without a sidesaddle, especially in a dress, but sitting on top of Caeser wasn't too much of a challenge before. I could still keep my legs over to the side and stay respectable. However when Erik mounted the horse behind me I was so shocked that I nearly fell off, and if it weren't for him grabbing me firmly around the waist and pulling me back up, I more than likely would have hit the ground. It all happened so fast that there was a long delay before my mind even registered that I was now sitting in his lap and when I noticed, all I could do was stare at him and hold as still as possible. Why did I always manage to find a way to embarrass myself around him?

"You'll want to be more careful than that while we ride." he smirked and leaned forward to take the reins. Caeser didn't wait to be told where to go. As soon as he was sure that Erik and I were both ready, we were on our way in to a tunnel to the left of the gondola... another very dark and scary tunnel.

There was a substantial amount of air flow coming from the direction we were headed and being so deep underground caused the breeze to carry a damp unnatural chill. I wondered how it was that my angel managed to live this way and go on so casually about it. All of this darkness was unbearable to me and yet he hardly seemed to be effected at all, but I knew better than to ask any questions about his lifestyle at this point. Bringing anything up about who or what he was would only anger him. Anything along the subject would need to be handled tactfully, and I still had yet to learn exactly _how_ to mention anything without taking the risk of upsetting him again, but still I tried.

"It's amazing how easily that you can survive in all of this darkness." I said, biting my lip with worry. It was only an observation, not a question, so would he still be angry? "I only wish I were as brave as you are."

"If I told you that even now you have more courage than any man, would you believe me?" the warmth and vibration of his voice rippled through me in a way that I was sure could only be sensed in such close proximity, without the light... in the same way he'd sounded to me when he sang his nightly serenades. If not for the fact that I was seated on top of him and without being able to make out any of his features, hearing him this way almost reminded me of our old meetings in the high chapel. He had the voice of an angel.

Could he tell that I was blushing? I laughed and shook my head. "I'm not feeling very brave at the moment."

"Hm." again, I could feel his voice vibrate in his chest as he hummed lowly in thought. "This tunnel is exactly the same now as it would be with a thousand candles lighting our way, did you know that?"

"What about rats?" I quipped. "How could you possibly know if there are any rats without being able to see?"

"Everything makes a sound, Christine, including rats, and even if I were to hear a few rats up ahead, they would surely scatter before we came close enough to encounter one. Rats have just as little interest in people as people do of them, and they are far more intelligent than anyone has bothered to give them credit for."

Was it all in my mind or did he sound as though he were defending the rats somehow? Was he so fond of them? "I would have never guessed." I shrugged. "Perhaps someday I'll make it a point to pay attention to one some day, but I still don't think I could actually _like_ one."

He took a deep breath and brought his arms up above my head and around me, pulling the reins slightly tighter and Caeser slowed his pace. "Lower your head with me, the ceiling swoops down here."

How had he even the slightest idea where we were astounded me. I bent down as far as my flexibility would allow, until my ear grazed my thigh, and he followed suit, resting his head on my back. Suddenly the sound of the horses hooves sloshing through shallow water echoed loudly all around us.

"Will this water get deep?" I felt so silly talking in to my legs on a moving horse and every step Caeser took caused my body to jostle around in my awkward position, cracking my back.

"Not at all. At one time this particular tunnel was the arch of an ancient aqueduct before the theater was established on top of it. I will bring you back for one of our lessons - with lighting of course. The acoustics here are convenient for practicing lower scales."

The sound of the water stopped and was replaced with the familiar sound of solid ground before Caeser stopped walking all together.

"Take the reins and shield your eyes." Erik said, gently pushing the leather straps in to my hands and sliding down to his feet. I heard him walk away but he was stepping so lightly it was impossible to determine in which direction he was headed. Surely this was a skill that any working phantom would hope to posses. I laughed inwardly as I tried to imagine this same man sneaking around the opera house undetected. It seemed preposterous that someone like him would want to go on living as a ghost, but I supposed that if I could move without making a sound I would find a way to use it to my advantage.

Without the heat of him around me I was much more aware of how cold it really was. Cold and dark... and he'd left me alone without even bothering to explain himself. I wrapped his cloak more securely around myself and wrapped my arms tightly around my legs. My neck was starting to strain painfully from being forced to lay low for so long "Where are you?" I squeaked.

"When I open this door the sun will flood the room. Shield your eye's and uncover them slowly as the horse begins to walk again." he called out. To my relief it sounded like he was only twenty or so feet ahead of me. At least I already had my face buried in my legs.

There was there unmistakable groaning of a massive wooden door being nudged aside, and then Caeser was in motion once again. His only reaction to the sunlight was a few agitated grunts, however when I peered through my lashes to adjust my eyes stung so badly that I wanted to cry out loud. At first all I could make out was Erik's silhouette but as we drew closer I was finally able to sit up and blink through the light and dust to behold the Eden behind him.

We had arrived at a large grassy meadow, a patch of paradise in the center of a dense forest where the sun could beam down and penetrate the earth. The ground was layered in dense tufts of tall wispy sage and lemon colored grasses and bright green ferns. Enchanting clusters of baby's breath, periwinkle, daisies, and black eyed susans were splotched across the scenery... and were those fairies bouncing in the breeze or simply the dew droplets of the morning still clinging to each tiny petal?

"Oh my!" I gasped. Another place that my angel brought me that I would forever wonder if it was real, or if this magical woodland bubble was a dream.

Erik came to the side of the horse and took my waist, lifting me down to stand with him. "I bring Caeser here at night to taste the grass and fresh air." he gestured toward a tree that looked purposefully planted slightly to the right of us. It was a relatively small tree, but it was covered in vibrant red shiny apples, and a flat stony walkway was laid out in front of us that lead the way to a mossy covered rock sticking halfway out of the ground beneath it. Inconspicuously and tied high within the branches was a long and wide billowing ribbon of black and gold silk, that turned and flashed lazily in the breeze.

This _was_ some sort of Eden.


	11. Truth and Peace

**Erik's POV! YAY!**

Christine sat down on the rock under the apple tree and her dress sprawled out carelessly around her toes. Little spots of light dappled her hair and face, illuminating bits of color in her that I wasn't previously aware of. In the sun I noticed streaks of green hidden in her eyes and saw hints of gold and chestnut in her usually dark brown curls. Bringing her to my meadow had been a _fantastic_ idea.  
**  
**I turned to face the forests edge inhaling the sweet air deeply and folded my arms across my chest. "Our lesson today will be simple. Sing whatever you'd like and I will decide what needs to be adjusted." Truth be told the girl no longer needed much practice. Her voice was exquisitely divine and rarely did she require my guidance anymore. This time her singing would be for my pleasure alone, and through her voice, within the confines of this day I would gather more knowledge of what was locked within her mind - within her soul.

"Wont you teach me something new? I know of no song that I'm not exhausted of."

She was stalling, and I was too eager to be patient. "Improvise." I commanded, rounding on her. "Preferably about what matters to you, or of things that don't matter at all, but you _must_ sing."

She drew her brows together in concentration and trailed off in to thought. "What matters to me..."

"_Chistine_." I cooed. "_Sing for me_ _Chrissstine_."

For what felt like an eternity she sat with her eye's closed, thinking hard. I wanted to urge her again, pressure her to perform faster but forced myself to walk away and pace in the grass instead. She would know when she was ready. This was the first time that I'd ever forced to to sing from the heart instead of the head, but what better way to express oneself. I would know _all_ of her secrets.

"_I have this longing for real adventure_,"

There it was, the beginning of her song. I spun on my heel and stepped towards her, open mouthed and breathing quickly. Her eye's were still tightly closed.

"_To leave this life a hundred miles behind_."

Did she also hope to leave _this_ behind, to forget about me? I edged a little closer.

"_I have this feeling it wont be long now_,

_'Till I can spread my wings and fly_."

Her voice reached it's highest peak at that last word and I felt like I might burst in to pieces. Did she truly wish to leave the theater after all of her efforts to succeed, after all of my hard work? I was only a step behind her now and closing in fast. I needed more, there must be more to this melancholy riddle. I took hold of one of the trees lower branches to brace myself.

"_To see a thousand sunsets on the broadest of horizons,_

_Or cast low and heavy on the unyielding sea_,

This sort of future with her had to be possible. With God as my witness I would find a solution or die trying.

"_With someone waiting at the door,_

_Who will always love me_."

She was aware of me standing there now and she glanced up to look at me from beneath her lashes.

"_I dream of children laughing,_

_of time gracefully passing,_

_I dream of life and love and peace_."

Her eye's glazed over, glassy and filled with worry and she reached up to rest her hand on the branch with mine.

"_But having you here casts a shadow on whats real,_

_Of what my dreams are-_

_What is this all for?_

_Are you a part of my world,_

_Or have I stumbled in to yours_?"

By forcing her to sing independently I had given her all of the control. Another significant miscalculation. I pulled an apple from high in the tree took her hand from the branch, curling her fingers around it with my own as I tried to decide the best way to answer her. This was not the time to further deceive her as I used to. Everything was different now and I knew I would have to be honest... but could I tell her what she wanted to hear without fully knowing what would please her? Choosing my words carefully, I answered cryptically in our secret language of song.

"_For years I solely lived as master to this theater._

_The silent puppeteer, a phantom, and a monster._

_And then a voice in the night, celestial and clear,_

_Drew me out of the shadows,_

_To place you where you belong,_

_As my only muse, and mine alone_

_To at last be your teacher,_

_Your only teacher.._."

By the end of my song I could not even manage to maintain eye contact with her any longer, ashamed. What would she do when she realized how selfish I planned on being with her time? She longed for freedom far away from the confines of the Opera House but I had no intention of ever letting her leave, especially without me. Even if it killed me, I would keep the bird caged, keep her forever. She may not have known it yet, but she was _mine_...

Christine shakily rose to her feet to face me, dropping the apple back in to my hand, her jaw was set sharp and determined. Her reply would be completely unpredictable, I could tell. Anxiety struck me like lightening knowing I was completely unprepared to counter whatever she said next. My mask felt hot and sticky against my cheek, and my cummerbund seemed to suddenly shrink in to my waist making it impossible to draw in a sufficient amount of air. Was this the dreaded moment of her rejection? She placed her hand over her heart and her bottom lip trembled.

"_Angel I feel your emptiness,"_

_I see bitter loneliness, _

_Such sadness in your eyes._

_Angel your pain,_

_It haunts me.._."

My features twisted in agony and I did nothing to hide it from her. While it soothed me to know how much she truly cared for me, there were too many things that she could never know. Her innocent mind did not deserve the weight of my eternal suffering. "Christine..." I shook my head and stepped back to lean against the tree. "You must learn to understand that whatever suffering I have, or will endure is my burden to bear and mine alone."

She pushed aside the branch that separated us to stand before me, no longer looking fiery or unsure. "Then never share with me a word about it. Maybe if I try... if you will allow me to..." Without any hesitation or warning she fell forward to close the distance between us and wrapped her arms around me.

What was this? I gasped out loud and my arms suspended awkwardly in the air. She was squeezing me around the middle and nuzzling in to my chest, smiling... A hug! This was a hug...something I had never received from anyone before in my life. Christine sought to bring me comfort. I sighed contentedly and wrapped my arms around her back to prove to her that her affection was warranted - would always be accepted.


	12. Love

**Sorry it's been taking me longer to update ( and sorry this is going to be such a short chapter ). My boyfriend and I have recently taken in two tiny feral kittens and getting them healthy has been super time consuming. When we first got them they were starved skin bags and now they're full, fluffy little terrors of dooooom. THANK YOU LINDZ FOR DROPPING THEM OFF WITH ME! :) PS the song that's feeding my imagination for this chapter is Renee Fleming's rendition of Rusalka - Dvorak "Oh Lovely Silver Moon" (title has more than one translation but it isn't very difficult to find) An AMAZING opera piece, full of love and longing and ahhhh, hearing it makes my heart beat a little faster every time. Go on and listen on youtube! DO IT! PSS I'm not editing this before I post it tonight like I wanted to - if I do it'll be tomorrow. I'm so tired right now I can't type anymore haha. As always THANK YOU for taking the time to read Echelon. Please review after reading if you can! Your input really helps to guide me in the right direction and is very much appreciated.**

Standing there holding him the way I was it was impossible for me to see his face. In my world it was totally normal to give a comforting embrace but when I first approached him he felt nervous and stiff I was afraid he would reject me. Was there a chance that no one had ever hugged him before? It wasn't until his arms fell loosely around me that I was sure my actions were acceptable enough. This wasn't the first time in the past two days that he'd slipped and given me a glimpse of the wretched sorrow in his eye's. Come to think of it, even with the stone walls of the theater there to keep us apart, I could still sense it there somewhere hidden in his voice. Witnessing it first hand today with both his expressions and his song together had shocked me to the core and I was unable to hold myself back from him. Seeing him struggle caused _my_ heart to break too.

"If I can never know what causes you such pain..." Was he afraid of what I might say next? The moment I started speaking in to his chest his arms tightened around me. "Will this be enough to ease your suffering?"

"Oh,_ Christine_." he sighed my name and pulled me closer, crushing me to him and buried his face in my hair, breathing in deeply. "Your very presence has been enough, but this means _so_ much more." He was warm and soft, solid but gentle, his quickening heart thudded audibly in his chest and all at once the aroma's of lavender and sage... and was that parchment and candle wax? All of these sensations combined washed over me like an ocean tidal wave - caused my soul to swell ten times it's normal size to make room for a whole new world of emotion, a new perspective on our strange and fragile existence together. Was it possible... was this _love_?

How was _he_ feeling? I pulled away slightly, desperate to see his face and was relieved to see he was smiling at me. There wasn't a single indication that he'd been upset only minutes ago. "Much better!" I grinned. He released his grip on me and I slipped away to lean on the branch behind me. As if I'd had just a little too much to drink, there was a warm fuzzy heat creeping in to my extremities tingling all the way through to the tips of my fingers and toes, spreading, settling...

So _this_ is love?

The word dangerously repeated itself over and over in my head until there was no way around it. I was falling for this masked man, my teacher, my angel, Erik - who until recently I wasn't even sure truly existed at all... who was he _really_ anyway? I wanted to run in to the grass and twirl around laughing, or climb up to the top of the tree and cry out against the beautiful morning sky. Did I have the strength to resist?

He leaned forward, turned one of my hands over to drop the apple back in to my palm and curled my fingers around it. "This was meant for you." he paused and turned his gaze up to mine, smirking. "I confess. I have no intention of taking you back to your rehearsals." His eye's were a sort of green outside in this light but with the way they were smoldering in to mine you would think that there was a molten fire burning behind them. How did he _do_ that?

"Oh!" I blinked, shrugging my shoulders. Thank God that the subject was changed! Now I would have a minute to collect myself, but this was confusing. Usually he always the one making excuses to cut our lessons short. What else could he possibly have planned? I would gladly spend the day at his mercy. "Will we stay outdoors?"

"I think not." he lifted his chin to the sky and scanned the clouds. "It may rain soon."

Rain? I looked up too, peeking through the leaves above me and was disappointed to see a gray mass of thick clouds in the distance. "How unlucky." I huffed. "I was just getting to know this beautiful place."

Before heading in to the tunnels he promised to bring me back to the meadow the next time he brought Caeser up. He warned that these journeys were typically a nightly activity but I knew I wouldn't mind. At least then we would have the candle light to guide us on our way. While we traveled back to his home on the horses back, I ate my apple and Erik explained to me the history and science behind the ducts and tunnels ahead, and how he'd decided to improve them. Most of the vocabulary and terminology that he used made little to no sense to me at all and it wasn't until we were out of the gondola that I started to catch on and understand. As it turned out, the rain was always an exciting event for him since he'd designed a special drainage system on the surface that would collect the water and trickle it down through the walls in copper tubing and to his lake. No matter what, as long as there was rain up above, he would always have fresh water. During an especially good storm the water pressure would even activate his many decorative fountains, and he made sure to point them all out along the way.

There were times when his words seemed to muffle while he was speaking. Each time he turned look at me I was more captivated by _him_ than anything he was saying. The sharp contrast between the sides of his face were more melded to me than they had been days before. I barely noticed his mask anymore - that is to say unless I was paying direct attention to it, but even then in a way the enigma of the mask itself was just as alluring as his fleshy cheek. Everything about Erik was more attractive, more magnificent than it ever had been before now that I knew I cared for him as more than a friend or guardian. The sound of his heartbeat still repeated back to me fresh in my mind. From now on there would never be a day that went by that I wouldn't miss him. I would hold him if he was sad, give him all of my free time - I was truly beginning to love him. Could he tell, would he be angry, or was this what he'd hoped for all along?


	13. Magic

When my angel never appeared for her rehearsals today, Madame Giry wouldn't give it a second thought. After reading my letter early this morning she would think that Christine was safely with me for an important lesson.

Sitting in my throne, I watched her stand with her head tilted back trying to read the spines of the many books I had lined up in a tall case just to the left of my bed chamber. Since I'd brought her here after our brief visit to the outside world, she'd taken to exploring every square inch of my lair, completely unconcerned with the time - or really anything at all, perfectly casual and content. I wondered when she thought I planned to take her home, because the more I mulled it over the less inclined I was to ever return her at all.

As if she could sense me my eye's following her, she peeked over her shoulder to smile at me. "Angel, how long will you keep me with you today?"

What a _great_ question. "Say the word and you will be returned to your dressing room." I gave her the first answer that came to mind, the option to leave and thankfully it was enough. She merely shrugged her shoulders and carried on perusing the shelves. My coveted Christine had moved to hold me in the meadow, and now she was enjoying simply spending time in my presence.

_Fascinating.__  
_

Things were going so well it felt too good to be true. My Christine, my living and breathing Christine was here with me willingly - and to think only a few short days ago I'd been afraid that she would reject me all together. Of course I was still worried. Even if everything felt perfect now, how long could this reality possibly last? I had too many dark secrets that were impossible to hide forever, too many skeletons in my closet. Eventually she would find a way to see my hideous excuse of a face, and then she would run...

Christine now sauntered towards me along the waters edge. "How deep is this lake?" she asked, squinting in to the drop off below her feet.

I stood up and walked over to join her. "On this far side if you were to fall in, the water would be well over your head." I explained, pointing to the cavern on the left of the gate. "Towards the gondola it remains shallow, and if you keep to the right there is a wide ridge where the water can only reach as high as the knees."

She crouched down low to skim the waters smooth surface back and forth with her fingertips. "Are there many weeds and fish?"

"Without any natural light there are very few weeds or fish that are able to survive, however I've seen a few grayling's swim through the gate so I suppose that anything is possible." Her eye's grew wide and she quickly pulled away from the water, jumping to her feet to grab hold of my arm. I couldn't help but laugh, Christine was adorable when she was nervous and I especially loved the way she clung to me for security. "The water is safe if that is what your wondering, and very clean."

"Oh!" she giggled and released my arm. "How silly of me to be afraid of this tiny lake when I once swam in the sea. Every thing just feels so much more powerful here, even the solid ground. It's almost as if I am in heaven."

Could she not see that she was standing in the pits of hell? "The only magic here has been crafted by my own two hands." I said gravely. "And in the end, this is nothing more than a glorified prison."

She held her chin high to look down her nose at me and threw her hands on her hips. "I simply cannot believe it."

There it was again, that determined look in her eye's. I quickly learned that each time I chose to be honest in a conversation with Christine, she would react this exact same way with lightening speed. This woman was not at all afraid to challenge me, but in this instance I couldn't disagree with her anymore. I folded my arms across my chest and shifted my weight on my feet. "I am telling you the truth Christine, there is no valid argument." I made sure that my tone was gruff and clear. _I would make her understand._

For a space of time she could only stare back at me but I knew that her lack of words was not due to fear. She was only carefully deliberating a response. Was I again ill equipped to anticipate her next move? There were only two possibilities ahead. Either she would be upset with me, or something else just as shocking. Anxiety crept silently through my veins as numbing and cold as a winter frost. I wasn't sure what I would do if she became angry.

Her demeanor suddenly lightened and relaxed and she smiled, reaching up to cup my uncovered cheek in her warm gentle hand. "If you were somehow able to turn this otherwise dark and dank cavern in to the fantastical escape that it is now, then the magic must surely reside within you. I see you leave a mark on every thing you touch and everywhere you go, like the ribbon tied in to the apple tree - and am I right to guess that it was you who planted the tree there as well?"

It was a complicated feeling to grasp, human contact. With the sensation of Christine's gentle touch on my face I was blissfully unable to resist her. "Yes." I admitted. "I planted the tree."

"Exactly!" Her smile grew wide and cheery." So this is not a dungeon. This is a work of art because you made it that way, just like the tree in the meadow."

_Oh Christine. _So innocent, so naive - yet still wise beyond her years.

"You have a very unique approach to perceiving the world around you." I breathed, feigning accusation. However it was no use. I could already feel the corners of my mouth turning up to match her sweet, inviting smile.

**Cutting this short, it's bed time - I'm literally passing out on my keyboard. Again I present a tiny unedited chapter :( Forgive me!**


	14. The Meeting of Hearts

**OK last super phluffy chapter for a few, gotta get back to business and create a solid plot hahaha I'm SO excited because I'll actually have a good chunk of time to commit to this right now :) First time in a long time! Again I am extremely sorry that the last few chapters have been so short. Life gets in the way. Thank you all for your reviews! They've given me a chance to visit and read YOUR stories too! Speaking of which, please drop by paisleygirl and read her work because it is amazzzzinnnggg. I wouldn't have joined fanfiction if I didn't run in to her story 'Penance' solely to review. I've also had quite an _interesting_ bit of fun talking with Phantom-of-the-Opera-Phan who by far is the greatest 'phan' of POTO lol and for her young age I'd consider an up and coming author after some of her more recent posts. OH and Angel of Mystery-145 is also has a brilliant series that I sat and read from start to finish (Quite a bit of reading though, all of her stories are book length haha, like reading paperback romance novels romance novels)  
**

**Fanfiction is by far the greatest place I've ever been! Being among my own species who love to write and read - who are also very passionate about what they choose to write if I might add :) I'm having a lovely time here.**

**- Eriks POV (again) -**

By the early evening hours after exploring every bit of my throne room her curiosity had finally been satiated. Anything that I did have to hide was tucked away in my bed chamber and by some miracle she'd chosen to avoid it completely. In fact, every time that Christine drew close to the doorway she halted dead in her tracks as if there were some kind of magical force field in place there meant to keep her out. Then again if she _had_ decided to cross the threshold to investigate I doubted I would have had the strength to try to stop her.

Now it was a short time until dusk and we were both resting amongst the pillows in the cove behind my organ. Christine lay propped up on her elbows deeply absorbed in one of my old play books she'd plucked off of the shelves - William Congreve's English comedy, 'The Way of the World' while I sat against the wall across from her to provide ambient music on my sitar. Eventually she became so absorbed in the play that she didn't notice at all when I stopped playing to watch her. Occasionally she let out a gasp or girlish giggle, and when her elbows grew sore she would roll over on to her back and hold the book in the air above her.

Without Christine there was never any sweet laughter in my home, no smiles, no peace. My ultimate goal had _always_ been to someday bring her here to gaze upon, to break the endless silence. Now here she sat before me and I still was not satisfied. I wanted to be closer, maybe just sitting beside her was what I needed but I couldn't bring myself to move, unwilling to cause her any discomfort. Her trust was sacred to me so for now watching her would have to be enough.

Never before had I been the allotted the chance to deliberately stare at someone for quite so long in person. I _loved_ the way that her collarbones bridged to her shoulders, the way the base of her neck arched gracefully in to her hairline, or how the lobes of her small feminine ears connected to the corners of her jaw. A few dark unruly curls had come loose from the knot at the top of her head to frame her face, her beautiful _flawless_ face. Here in this light her otherwise readable chocolate brown eye's were now deep never ending pools of black, their irises undetectable.

"Angel?"

"Yes?" I blinked, slightly startled when her attention fell on me. It had to have been obvious that I'd been gawking at her.

She crawled towards me and held out the book out, saving the page with her little finger. "Someday if I am ever blessed with the chance to sing as Diva in the opera again, I hope to hold a fan just like this one. Doesn't she look like a Queen?"

I set the sitar aside and took the book from her hands to see the page she was holding. The woman in the drawing was common compared to the goddess who was now positioning herself against the pillows next to me, but the wide fan clutched in her hands was indeed lovely - maybe fashioned out of lace. A fan like this would be easy to come by...

"Perhaps the costume department will fashion one for you." I suggested, handing the book down to her.

"My mother had a fan." she sighed nostalgically and smiled, closing her eye's. "I imagine it being royal blue or maybe periwinkle with gold tassels dangling at the bottom, but I was so young then that I don't think I remember it properly."

If something as simple as a fan could please my Christine, she would have one.

She was resting beside me now, just the way that I wanted and I never had to move a muscle. Her eye's remained closed, the book cast away, her mouth slightly parted. Was she truly comfortable enough to relax this close to me?

"Angel?" she yawned.

"Hm?"

She rolled on to her side and peeked up at me heavy lidded through her thick fringe of lashes. "If I told you that I felt..." If only she'd finished her sentence I would know the entirety of her thoughts but to my dismay, she appeared to have fallen fast asleep.

"Christine?" I leaned over to face her unsure, and gently nudged her shoulder. What was she going to say? I needed to know! "Christine!"

She bolted up right and her eye's popped open. The combination of how frightened she looked and the shock of her jumping awake sent me reeling back against the pillows. Fear was an expression that I was all too familiar with... I swallowed hard as she focused on me. Had it been wrong to wake her? Would she scream?

Her features slowly lightened and she shook her head and smiled, bringing both hands to her breast. "How rude of me to fall asleep like that. I never meant to - Oh please forgive me?" she asked sincerely.

My chest was heaving and my mouth felt dry but when she smiled and asked for forgiveness relief washed through me and I was able to compose myself. "Forget it." I grunted passively. "Finish what you were telling me before you closed your eyes."

"I - hm..." She bit down on her bottom lip nervously and thought hard. "I don't recall saying anything in the first place."

"How convenient." I grumbled sarcastically under my breath. Naturally as soon as Christine started mentioning any of her feelings the fates would swoop down to hide from me the truth.

A great sadness filled her eye's and she continued to worry her lip with her teeth, twisting her hands together like a scolded child. Seeing this caused me to immediately regret what I'd said, but it was obviously too late. The damage was done and I was at fault. Unable to bare the sight of her in such a state a second longer I pushed myself off of the ground and on to my feet to stand with my back towards her in the doorway. Soon she would ask to leave and I would once again have to become familiar with wretched solitude and the cold bitter loneliness of isolation, all because I could not seem to manage to keep my temper in check.

"Angel?"

Soon all would be lost...

"Erik!" The sound of my name passing her lips was still foreign to me, and the name alone sent an involuntary jolt of seething anger through my veins, but she certainly had my attention, and when she wrapped her arms around my waist I was even further caught off guard and spun around, throwing my hands up roughly to brace myself in the door frame. My aggressive reaction was but a very old and forgotten reflex. When_ that name_ was still in use it was always followed closely behind by contact of a painful orientation, first by my mother, and then by the gypsies she abandoned me to. Thankfully I'd managed to take it out on the stony frame and not the tiny woman who now backed away from me looking like she might cry.

Without thinking I stepped forward and pulled her in to my chest, tucking her head underneath my chin. Now it was my turn to beg for forgiveness or I would surely lose her. "Christine... _Oh Christine forgive me_. I have a monstrous temper." I spoke in to her hair, and ran my shaking hands down her back. There was more that I could have said to sooth her but my words caught in my throat and I was unable to continue. She did not struggle to break away from me. Instead she relaxed against me let out a long sigh of relief.

"You mean you aren't angry with me?" she asked in a small voice, reaching up to encircle her arms around my neck.

_That was what she was so worried about? _

My cravat was tight and unforgiving, pressing in to my throat as I struggled to maintain an even breathing pattern. This was becoming much more intimate than our embrace in the meadow. Never had someone held me _this_ way. I had to wait for a moment before being confident enough to speak again. She was so_ close - _the closest anyone had ever been. "Before you fell asleep, you started to tell me about something and I was disappointed to never know." I tried to make sense of my behavior, searching my mind for the least damaging words. "And you must remember to only use that name when I can see your face, especially if you intend to touch me. Do you understand?"

She tipped her head back to search my eye's. Our noses may have been an inch apart, maybe less, and I could feel her short little breaths against my chin.

_My God_.

I anxiously shifted my weight from one foot to the other, struggling to maintain our gaze. This new way of closeness was _divine_. Her heart was beating so quickly that I could feel her pulse in my finger tips through the smooth skin of her back... How _easy_ it would have been to bend down and kiss her ... The urge was almost too strong to resist but now was not the time. I stood perfectly still.

Christine concentrated on the corner of my mouth, silent and uneasy... and then a look of dawning filled her eye's and she met my gaze again, smiling. "I understand perfectly." her voice was warm and rich, all fear and sadness gone from her eye's and replaced with her familiar angelic affection. The air grew thick and heavy, warm and sweet causing my heart to burst with anticipation, and then to my amazement, she stood on her toes, gaining the extra height necessary to close the distance left between us and pressed her soft lips to my bare cheek. _She_ kissed_ me?_ My breath hitched loudly and she quickly pulled back to judge my expression.

My brows drew together as I strained to contain the intensity of feeling growing inside me, desperate to fight the tears now burning, threatening to fall from my eye's. "Christine I -"

And then, without hesitation, she moved to kiss my mask itself as if I did not wear one at all, lingering there against the side of my face. Initially the sensation was so alarming that I felt rigid and paralyzed. If she only knew what hid underneath the thin cover of porcelain, would she then still find a way to be so loving or brave? "_Christine_." Her name was all that I could think of to say, over and over again it ricocheted in my mind. I crushed her to my chest again and buried my face in her hair, breathing in the scent of her, desperate to calm myself as I overflowed with love and jubilation.

"I think that you worry I might run off, or of worse things." she trailed off and drew her arms under my waist coat and around my middle. "There is no way for me to know."

I took another deep breath and closed my eyes, knowing that I would have to be honest. There was no use in weighing out another option. "That is very true."

"Where else would I run to?"

_"I could never dream of leaving this place, or to end our lessons. I have nothing else in this world." _Her words from the first night I'd brought her to the throne room rang back in to my consciousness.

"I promise to only use your name with more caution from now on and -"

"No!" I had to interrupt her. "Use it as often as you can, lest I never become accustomed to it. Use it when I can see your face." In time I would be more comfortable to hear her call my name instead of 'Angel' and then at long last I could feel entirely human.

**That's all I've got guys, my mind is totally fried _ I apologize if there are any errors floating around haha I'll edit this tomorrow because I am way too tired to bother with it now. Erik's just had his first kisses on his cheeks! I feel totally satisfied with that. It makes me so giddy and happy to write like this :) I'm almost too bashful about it to post! Thank you so much for reading :) Please review and keep me updated on your opinions! Your support means a lot and I really appreciate the input.**


	15. Gone So Soon

**So, Erik and Christine spent an entire day together! Her kisses may have been innocent, meant primarily to bring him comfort, but I still tried to make them as sweet as possible. I keep having to remind myself that there is supposed to be a massive age gap between them. In the book although it isn't exactly specified I was led to assume that Christine was in her late teens/early twenties and Erik was at least 50 if I recall correctly... In the film she appears to be around 17 and he looks about 30 (definitely not 50, WAY too sexy to be 50)... so I've decided in 'Echelon' that she will be 17 and he will be 30 in case anyone was having a hard time picturing their age. The first romance novel that I ever read had a very similar age difference and to my surprise I didn't find it even the least bit disturbing. Back then these relationships were considered perfectly normal *shrugs* and when I think about it, at 17 it would have been nice to be respected as a woman instead of being viewed as an irrational teen - it would have also been pretty awesome to be courted by "men" instead of "boys" if you know what I mean - and I'm sure many of you can agree with me on that one... back then a man would aim to keep and take care of you, make sure that you had as much as he could give you - would "lasso the moon" for you if thats what it would take to make you happy :) Although I'm a fan of the rights that we have today... at the same time I almost wish that feminism and the women's rights movement never happened. Perhaps then chivalry**** would still exist *sighs* Food for thought.**

**Because I'm secretly a gamer girl at heart, while writing this chapter I'll be listening to the 'Skyrim' soundtrack, primarily the track 'Ancient Stones' - DON'T JUDGE ME!  
**

**-Christine's POV-  
**

Under what sort of conditions could a man like my angel learn to loath his own name? After being able to kiss him I'd reached a full new plane of bravery. If he trusted me that much, who was to say that he would try to stop me from simply touching him? I snaked my arm up in between us to graze my fingers over his mask and shuddered as soon as I lay my hand along it's cold, stony surface. How was it not warmed by his face underneath? He quickly moved backwards to pull away, but I had a firm grip around his waist with my free hand and managed to step with him.

He shook his head and grasped my hand, bringing it back down to his chest and squeezed it tightly, hissing through his teeth as he spoke. "Know that if you remove this mask, my little _Pandora_, everything will be destroyed in one final moment of unholy chaos. Do you understand?"

His pained, pleading eyes begged for my reply, but I wasn't sure what I could possibly say. He expected me to understand without any knowledge of the mystery surrounding the mask itself. Wasn't there only a man underneath? I was able to form a picture of him without it in my mind, although the image was always skewed and blurred, strange. Did his hesitance to reveal his true form have any correlation to the strange, magical things that he was capable of? Maybe he really was an angel or a ghost...

"With or without the mask, are you not still the same man?" I was determined to get an answer - any answer that would curb my curiosity. His grip on my hand became just a little too tight. "Angel?"

He released my straining fingers and carefully tucked a stray curl behind my ear while he deliberated how he would respond. "Nothing can change what I am." he started slowly. "Which is why this mask must stay in place. You-will-obey-this-request."

The fact that he found it necessary to give me a direct order was wounding, twisted my stomach in to knots. After all of these years, he still didn't trust me. What more did I need to do to gain his faith? "I wouldn't dare take it off Erik!" I swore firmly, making sure to look him in the eyes when I used his name. "You _must_ believe me."

Erik bent down, leaning in closely until the tips of our noses were almost touching, as he searched my eye's for any sign of deceit. My heart might have stopped at that moment, but I was breathing so hard that there was no way to tell. We were only a hair's breadth away and I immediately started to wonder what it might have been like to kiss his mouth...

"I believe you." he whispered, straightening his back, and before I could register what was happening he cupped my jaw and planted a warm lingering kiss at the top of my forehead.

The pure energy hiding in his kiss transferred to me as fast as lightening. A hundred thousand butterflies took flight within me, tickling my insides while they fanned the embers still resting in my stomach until they broke in to flame. Through the shock of the sensation I detected many different things. There was longing, trembling apprehension, never ending power, and deep spiraling love. Sparkles of bright light dotted my vision and my body started to feel numb, everything was tingling. My heart may have stopped but I was breathing so quickly and there was such a loud ringing in my ears that I couldn't tell. Feeling faint, and unable to stand up on my own I let my head fall in to his shoulder and held on to his arms for support. I was floating...falling...

I'd never expected love to feel quite like this. Since I was a little girl I always imagined that to fall in love would be like a quaint and simple journey through the clouds of heaven, and in every book that I'd ever read, every song I'd ever sung love was always described in such a simple way. Nothing could have prepared me for how I felt now. Just his gentle kiss on my forehead was enough to change my entire universe. There was something different, something so special about this, about Erik, my teacher, my angel... whatever he was.

After waiting patiently for me to steady myself he slowly broke away to take me by the hand. The way that he took in the sight of me now was a far cry from the comparably temperate glances he'd given me in the past, however when his voice ended the silence it was steady and controlled. "Come, it is late. I must return you to the surface." It was all that I could do to ignore the heat rising in to my face, smile, nod, and follow.

When reached the waters edge he made sure that I was secure in his cloak, spinning me around to cocoon me inside of it until I could barely move my arms before setting me in to the gondola like a bundle precious cargo. Normally I might have protested being fussed over so fervently but I was still dazed, basking in the glow of his mystical affection.

A fine silvery mist clung to the still waters surface and each time he pushed the boat a few feet forward it would waft in to the air, dissipating in to the shadowy abyss of the high ceilings.

"Erik, where does the mist come from?" I asked, finally finding my voice. I pulled my hand out of the confines of his cloak to run my fingers through the damp air, pinching my fingers together in an attempt to capture it.

"Only when the air has a chill _and_ if the water contains warmth does the barrier of mist appear. It is a vapor representation of the conflict taking place between heat, cold, and moisture." he explained. "Similar to the steam that escapes you when you exhale outside on a winters day."

"How strange." I mused, drawing my arm back in to the cloak I tipped my head back to see him. "This -" I struggled for a word to summarize the vastness of the underground, "This beautiful_ kingdom _of yours is so different than anywhere I've ever been. I'm sad to know this day is ending." Speaking about it only made me feel worse, knowing that soon I would be parted from him.

The creases wrinkled around his eye's and he slowed his paddling. "Time is fickle, my angel." he said, his tone mirroring my sadness. We were closing in on solid ground and Caeser was clearly visible up ahead. Just as he'd promised this morning, I could see that all of the candles were now burning brightly on the path.

Once the gondola was tied securely to the shore Erik came around to lift me out and in to his strong arms. "We will not be bothering Caeser tonight." he said as a smile returned to his lips. "So I will carry you."

Just this morning we'd walked this same stretch together in complete darkness and I was so afraid. Why didn't he carry me then? I bashfully returned his smile, secretly thrilled. Allowing him to carry me would give me just a few extra minutes to be with him. After all, the horse was faster and I was in no great hurry. From my position as he walked I took note of his perfect gait. Each step that he took was completely fluid as if there was no stone floor beneath him, no sound of his feet scraping the ground.

"There will be no lesson tomorrow," I was so focused on trying to hear his steps that his low voice was startling, "Or for the remainder of the week. I will be away."

"But why for so long?" I cried. "That's five days!" Panic overwhelmed me but I did my best not to outwardly share my distress. Not a single day had gone by since I first met him in the chapel without at least _hearing_ him. What would I do without him for five days? My only view of him was from the position I was in was of his stoic mask, making it impossible to gauge his expression. Was he suddenly angry with me?

"I have business that needs tending to, and a theater to be run. My attention has been somewhat compromised from several of my otherwise constant duties as of late." He delivered his reasoning softly, turning his head to gaze upon my face. "Do not stress, I will still be watching over you." Somewhere hidden in his words I could hear a hint of warning, but didn't know what to make of it. Was he confirming my suspicion that I could almost _always _sense him near me?

Erik rolled my weight further in to the crook of his arm and against him, freeing a hand to open the trap door in front of us, and set me down on my feet once he'd stepped over the threshold.

My first instinct was to shake his cloak off of my shoulders and offer it back to him. I still felt guilty for accidentally keeping it the night before and I didn't want to take the risk of forgetting again. He gladly took it from me, donning it at once, and the way he stuck his chin in the air while he tied it around his neck was oddly appealing. Even his neck seemed to be sculpted out of stone, just as the statues of the Greek gods tucked away in the prop warehouse behind the theater. Maybe he wasn't an angel at all but a _god_, the god of music. If he'd told me now that he was Apollo himself I would not have been too surprised. He matched the description well enough to make it believable.

Maintaining a smouldering gaze, he took both of my hands in to his and brought them up to brush his lips along my knuckles. "Christine," he breathed, "You shall know when I have returned." He couldn't have been more vague, but at least I knew that I had his word. "While I am gone, practice the role of the Countess for the upcoming production '_Il Muto_'."

Once again he was asking me to practice one of Carlotta's roles. _Curious_. I obediently bowed my head even though I wanted nothing more than to beg him not to leave. He hadn't even told me where he was going, or what he was heading off to accomplish. "I'll be waiting." I promised and forced a smile, and with a final brush of his lips and the swish of his cloak he was gone, making sure to latch the mirror behind him.


	16. Day One

**I am changing the rating on this story to 'T' for awhile so that a few people can read it haha but as a warning I have no intention of keeping it at a lower rating - so nobody freak out!  
**

**- Erik's POV -**

In order to secure Christine's role as Diva in the upcoming production I was going to need to find a way to remove Carlotta from the ranks of the stage indefinitely. For three years I had gone out of my way to make her time at The Opera Populaire as unlucky and detrimental to her career as possible but to no avail. Every other peon in the entire damned building was thoroughly convinced of the opera ghost and yet Carlotta still chose to defy me. To kill the woman and be done with it would have been all too easy, however, unfortunately unnecessary.

There _had_ to be another way.

It would be the ultimate haunting, the most terrible, horrifying experience of her pathetic life. Certainly being forced to tolerate hearing her 'sing' in _my_ theater was justification enough for whatever my actions might be, but things were different now. The fuel feeding my heightened interest in Carlotta's demise came solely from my desire to give Christine the stage once again. On the night of Christine's debut as the Countess she would receive her first fan - a fan that I would design for her myself.

_Oh, Christine._

Did she have any idea how precious her innocent affection felt to me, or how sacred she was to me now after letting me kiss her? Never in my life was I given the chance to press my lips to anyone before last night. Did she know that it was out of love? I would cherish that moment in my heart for as long as I lived... and the memory of her sweet kisses upon my face was just as promising. Unable to pull myself away, I spent the entire following morning watching her in strangled silence from the other side of the mirror, deliberating barging through just to _touch_ her one more time, to hold her against me, to let it be known that I was still there. Eventually, she headed through the door for rehearsals glancing back only once over her shoulder to gaze upon where I was standing with curious eye's... It felt so _wrong_ not to be following her, but the time I planned to spend away would be well worth the sacrifice.

My mind was buzzing as I trekked through the dark underground. Occasionally as I walked I tugged the collar of my cloak up to my nose and inhaled deeply because just as I'd hoped it would, Christine's rose perfume still clung to the fabric. I was on my way to Ubaldo Piangi's quarters where I was sure that Carlotta would be lounging. With some luck after having listened to her for long enough I would gather the ammunition that I needed to organize my final attack. The sooner that I could make my move, the sooner Christine would be cast as the Countess and until I was absolutely sure that success was the only outcome, I knew that I would have to withhold myself from spending time with my angel. Being in her presence was far too distracting and I'd given myself a five day deadline to accomplish more than one special task.

By the end of this week - no matter what the cost she would have a fan, the stage, and an engagement ring.

I did not intend to give her the ring right away, but I at least hoped to have one in my possession should the proper moment arise. Even though I did not yet have the confidence in our relationship to ask her to be my bride, I knew that having a ring would be my first step in the right direction. So far all that I was able to deduce was that Christine cared for me a little more than I'd ever witnessed her care for anyone else and while that fact was comforting, it was not the grounds for attempting to bring marriage in to the situation.

Piangi's quarters were a part of the dressing hall behind the theater and after walking for twenty minutes I finally reached the grate hiding underneath his wardrobe. Just as I suspected, Carlotta was there and I could clearly hear her fussing over that repulsive creature she called a 'dog' - which to me was at most an overgrown rat.

"_Look at heem, he is too skeeny. You can see it's tiny leetle knees! Ubaldo geeve me your plate_!"

"_Of course, my love_."

How pathetic it was that she could demand Piangi's lunch for her rat, and that he would give it to her without question. Still, the man was far too overweight for his own good...

"_Zat Christine is back at rehearsals - to theenk that she had been given my role, croaking on da stage like da nasty toad dat she is. These new managers are just as bad as da last to obey dat stupeed opera ghost_."

"A toad madam? Perhaps it is _you_ who are the toad." I grumbled under my breath, gritting my teeth. Was it not plainly obvious that she was past her prime? Certainly the audience had appreciated my Christine's angelic clarity more than Carlotta's general awfulness. Even now there were hundreds of men waiting at the door, flowers in hand, hoping for even a peek at my little angel.

"_The audience will be thrilled to see you center stage again my love. I doubt that the chorus girl will ever perform as Diva again_."

"_No, no, NO! Da ghost prefers dat toad. He weel find a way - maybe drop sometheeng else on my head - I don't know. After my role as Countess I weel demand dat the managers push her out onto da streets. Maybe then dat ghost weel finally find sometheeng else to do. I belong on da stage, theese it my theater! I am Diva!_"

Unable to stomach listening to their conversation a minute longer, I turned on my heel and sprinted home. I had heard enough to kick my mind in to high gear and now a devious, wonderfully terrible plan was forming in my mind. If I was ever going to force her to leave I was going to have to create not only an elaborate haunting, but I was also going to need to publicly humiliate her.

To start I needed at least a crate of toads... but I wouldn't be able to collect enough of them until after dark. In the mean time I would study general anesthetics. Carlotta never sang an aria without spraying her beloved bronchio-dialotor in to her throat to "warm the lungs." What if I could create the perfect concoction to reverse the effects instead? I'd already created a perfect replica of her glass spray bottle, originally intending to lace it with pepper which would have definitely warmed her lungs in the most unpleasant way, but that would only make her more angry and defiant. Instead I knew that I needed something impossible to detect, something tasteless, odorless, and invisible that would have a severe numbing effect.

Due to my unfortunate inability to ever approach a doctor in times of sickness or injury, I had designed an entire closet dedicated to medicinal supplies. As soon as I was back in my lair I began blindly rummaging through it for something, anything...

**I am not editing this tonight, gotta spend time with my wonderful boyfriend :) Thank you all for reading and reviewing :) Your feedback helps me know what to write next and I love it!**


	17. The Phantom

**-Christine's POV-**

The rehearsals for '_Il Muto'_ were only around eight hours long, but to me it felt like they were going to go on forever. Normally I'd be able to sense my angel near by but at no point while I was on the stage could I feel his presence. His absence was unnerving, and even though I had Meg to keep me company I felt _so_ alone. What exactly was it that he needed to do that could take five days? What if he never came back at all?

After practice Meg made it a point to drag me up on to the roof top for a discussion. She wanted details, and for once I wasn't even the slightest bit afraid to tell her what was really on my mind because I _knew_ that no one would be listening.

"So," Meg began as we made ourselves comfortable on the ground, "Care to explain to me how a lesson with that tutor of yours can take up an entire day?"

I rolled on to my back and stared up in to the evening sky. This was the first time I ever had any real feelings to discuss with anyone before and I decided it best to look away while I divulged. This way I wouldn't be able to see her face when she reacted to anything I told her and I could avoid feeling too embarrassed.

"Before... when our meetings were held in the chapel our bond felt strictly platonic, but now that he has made the choice to appear to me in person for our lessons... things have changed so much Meg, and I'm not sure what to do." It was a terrible way to start off, but dragging out the truth was harder than I thought it would be. "I think that I might be falling for him."

She gasped and pulled herself a little closer to me. "But how can you fall for an angel, Christine? He isn't even human!"

I raked my hands over my face and in to my hair, tugging hard at the roots. "I don't know!" I cried. "In so many way's he seems so much like a man."

"How can an angel seem anything like a man?" she teased. "Don't angels have wings?"

"_He_ _doesn't_." No, Erik did not have wings, or a halo...

Meg laughed and moved to lay beside me, taking my hand in to hers. She urged me to continue. "I don't wish to feel like I am interrogating you."

I closed my eye's and focused on my vivid recollection of the day before. "Yesterday he brought me to his home again. It is a magical, peaceful sort of place where every thing is beautiful and anything is possible. He lives like a king - and while I am there with him it feels as though there is nowhere on earth that I would rather be. What makes his world even more fascinating is that he created it himself... I don't think that there is anything that he isn't capable of - and his _voice_ Meg, he could hypnotize anyone with his voice. His song is the most beautiful sound that I have ever heard, and impossible to resist."

"Go on!" She was hanging on my every word.

What else could I tell her? My palms were getting sweaty and my chest was starting to tighten anxiously as I tried to find the right words to describe him. "He treats me as gently as if I am made out of glass... but my angel has many secrets, and whenever I get close enough to discover one he becomes overwhelmed with despair. He's brilliant to behold, and every thing he touches reacts as if graced by magic... his own darkly beautiful brand of magic."

"Like your voice." Meg said pointedly. "Even if he isn't an angel, he sounds like a celestial being. Haven't you tried asking him?"

A cold breeze swept over the roof top causing us both to shiver and cross our arms, but it wasn't the chill in the air that made the hair stick up on the back of my neck. I sat up, inhaling deeply and glanced around as casually as I could. There it was, the sweet combination of lavender and sage, parchment and candle wax... he was here, I could feel it... but where?

"Christine, have you asked him?" Meg repeated her question and my wide eye's darted to her face, silently begging her not to speak. How much had he heard? Since when did he follow me here? I felt so violated, naked, exposed!

"No, I haven't." I replied, feigning calmness. It was his fault that he chose to listen in on our conversation. If he didn't like what I had to say _I did not care_. "Whether he be an angel, a god, or a man makes no difference to me. Whatever he is, I think that he's wonderful." I made sure that my tone sounded confident and indignant.

"I know it isn't lady like to instigate, but have you thought about trying to kiss him?"

Oh god how I hated Meg in that moment. I could feel my cheeks flush a bright scarlet red all the way to the top of my ears. Of all the questions that she could have asked me while _he_ was there, she _had_ to think of that one.

She giggled and pushed me playfully by the shoulder, only worsening my embarrassment. If he was listening, was he also watching?

"You _did_ kiss him didn't you?" she teased.

There was no way that I could hide it on my face. "His cheeks Meg, only his cheeks." I mumbled, looking down at my lap.

"Well, that hardly counts for anything." she rolled her eyes at me with obvious disappointment.

Recalling the memory of kissing him, and then the adoring way that he had kissed me, I couldn't help but give her a goofy grin. Being in his arms and feeling so close, so intimate was more than enough to wake up the hundreds of butterflies in my stomach. I shook my head and leaned in, pushing her hair out of the way to whisper in her ear. "It may have been innocent, but it was romantic, and after I kissed him he melted as if no one had ever been so close to him before. I'm beginning to wonder if he's ever known any kind of love in his life at all."

Just then the most wild horrified scream that I had ever heard echoed from somewhere inside, a sound that could have come from none other than the witch Carlotta. If it had been anyone else we would have been concerned but whenever anyone heard the Diva panic we knew it was a time for celebration.

"The opera ghost!" Meg exclaimed, dragging me up to my feet. "Let us go see what he's done to her this time!"

It didn't take us very long to find the scene. Carlotta was standing - still shrieking in the front lobby surrounded by the managers, Madame Giry, Piangi, and her ugly little poodle. Normally she never let the dog run free but he was currently scampering on the marble floor around her fur coat and open handbag chasing around at least a hundred -

"Toads! My dear Carlotta, why would you bring _toads_ in to the building?" Monsieur Andre demanded, moving to hide behind Monsieur Firmin. "They'll spread disease!"

Jumping up and down, Carlotta spun to face him, clutching her dress to pull it above her ankles. She looked angry enough to spit fire and tears were streaming down her face. I _almost_ felt sorry for her.

"Dis is not my doing you idiots!" she sobbed, "Someone put dem in my coat pockets, and they are pouring out of my purse. My things are expenseeve, who will replace them? I have had enough of dis! I am a star! I deserve jewels and flowers not dese disgusting creatures hiding in my belongings!"

The managers both turned helplessly to Madame Giry who waved an opened letter in the air. "You have angered the opera ghost by ignoring his note! This is a warning!"

_The opera ghost_... Erik did this?

Meg and I were ducking low through the door on the landing struggling with great difficulty to stifle bursts of laughter at the sight of Carlotta's struggle. Even though no one usually dared to admit it, seeing her suffer any sort of hardship brought us all pleasure. Knowing that this was Erik's doing made it even more exciting for me. That is until I realized that if my angel was indeed the perpetrator, not all of his pranks had been entirely harmless. Madame Giry had always said that the only way to avoid the 'ghosts' wrath was by '_keeping your hand at the level of your eyes_'. According to her personal accounts of the past, Giry herself claimed to witness the phantom strangle a man to death with a punjab lasso, his weapon of choice. It was her solid reason for always choosing to obey his commands without question.

Had Erik actually murdered a man in cold blood? This realization was unsettling and grotesque - impossible for me to imagine. Surely if he really did commit the crime it was only to protect himself or another. After rationalizing it in my head I was able to enjoy watching the toads hop around again. Still, a dormant part of me remained just a tiny bit curious...

Once we both had seen enough Meg and I parted way's to go our rooms for the night. Behind us the managers were desperately trying to convince Carlotta not to quit performing in the upcoming opera, and I felt sad for them. It was a pity that the two of them decided to take on the stressful task of running the opera house. Soon I could picture them leaving with the same excuse as the rest of our ex managers, 'Health reasons.'

It was a blessing that I wasn't tired enough to fall asleep when I retired to my room. Laying neatly and conspicuously on my pillow I found a carefully hand written manuscript of 'Il _Muto_' next to a note which simply read: "_Practice_."

**That's all I've got for today. I'm going on hiatus for the weekend, but I'll try and make sure to post a chapter by Monday or Tuesday. Thank you for reading and for your reviews!**


	18. Sleeping Beauty

**-Erik's POV-**

If I was going to check on Christine once more before heading home for the evening I knew I was going to have to be especially cautious. Somehow she'd been able to detect me with her on the roof top which had completely destroyed my chances of listening in on her conversation with her friend. I hadn't arrived in time to hear anything important and as soon as I was within earshot Christine resorted to whispering her replies to Meg's questions, thing's that I could only assume she did not want me to know. Although the blushing look of awareness on her face was priceless, I was aggravated to have these secrets remain hidden considering that they undoubtedly pertained to me. Now I viewed visiting her unnoticed as a_ challenge_.

I decided that the easiest and less invasive way to visit her was to scale the side of the building to her window. Popping through the mirror would be too much of a risk and the last thing that I wanted was to make myself known again. It was well past midnight by the time that I went to perch myself on her sill. The first thing that I noticed was a single candle that remained lit on her bedside table, nearly melted down to the bobèche. There had been countless instances in the past that I had gone in to put out her candles in the middle of the night. While the rest of the people in Europe were concerned about the chance of their houses burning down while they slept, Christine had never worried. She would rather sleep with a light than none at all even if it put the entire theater in jeopardy. This was one of her most foolish, careless habits - but an endearing one. Like an innocent child, my angel had never grown out of her fear of the dark.

Had she not yet realized that I was the epitome of darkness?

Christine lay sleeping on her bed below me, resting on her back with the script for '_Il Muto_' open across her chest. She normally opted to sleep on her stomach so I found this new position very curious. It could not have been comfortable... and where were her blankets? I also took note of how her curls were spread wildly around on her pillow. Typically she made sure to tie her hair up in a bow before laying down. Tonight it appeared as though none of her usual nightly routines had taken place so she must have changed in to her night gown and collapsed in exhaustion after her grueling day of rehearsals.

Still, even in this ruffled state Christine was nothing shy of perfection. She resembled Nyx, Greek goddess of the night, or maybe she shared more of a likeness to Briar Rose from The Brothers Grimm tales. Here in this light each one of her delicate curves was accentuated, liquid and smooth and every inch of her was captivating to me in the most magnetic way. When she was only a girl, in sleep she truly did appear as innocent as an angel... but in the past few years her appearance had rather dramatically changed. My little protégée had blossomed in to a woman seemingly over night and her beauty now drew me in as powerfully and dangerously as the magnificence of a siren. I knew that I did not deserve her, but I could not survive without her. If I had chosen to remain in my place as her silent tutor and guardian, our estranged existence together would soon be shattered. Christine was far too desirable to go on living her entire life as a dancer or chorus girl... Some day I would go to see her and find her with a doting _husband_. It was this very realization that had put me over the edge. My love for Christine was poetic, seasoned by the many years of being her protector. I knew almost every single thing there was to know about _my_ angel, and worshiped each and every tiny piece of her soul in ways that no other man could ever try to comprehend. No one else could have her, and certainly no one else needed her even close to as much as I did. Without her I would lose whatever pathetic scraps of my humanity that I had left in me, and plunge back in to the consuming peril that had possessed me before the blessed first day of her arrival.

Her bottom lip trembled and she turned over to her side, the script slipping down page by loose page to the floor. Every muscle in my body grew stiff as I expected her to startle from the sound but she never cracked open an eye. I laughed inwardly at myself for worrying. Even if she did stir awake there was not enough light from her one tiny flickering candle to see me through the glass.

_Hopefully _like a good girl she remembered to practice. There were only a handful of day's left before the opening day and whether she knew it or not the role already belonged to her. Carlotta would not be able to withstand my wrath and by the end of this week if not sooner she _would_ leave.

Judging from her trembling lips and the goose flesh spreading quickly down her bare arms, Christine was feeling the cold. Surely the chill in the air would be enough to wake her if I did not act.

Holding my breath, I pushed the window ajar just enough to reach down to grasp the top of her coverlet and pull it gently over top of her. She let out an appreciative moan and gripped it's soft edges, dragging it up and over her head.

_Oh, Christine_.

It deeply saddened me to know that she was unaware of my presence. To see her elated, greeting smile would have have brought me tremendous joy. Perhaps being found out would not have been a complete and total loss... but no. She could not know that I was there with her or I would be inclined to stay longer. Keeping Christine up late would destroy her performance at rehearsals tomorrow, and I had sworn an oath to myself to complete my mission list before openly seeking her out again. Every thing had to be perfect. I could not afford to fail.

When the candles last flicker cast her beautiful dreaming figure in to the shadows, I reluctantly made the journey back in to the tunnels. My harmless prank on Carlotta this evening had been a great success, but I was going to need another crate of toads for the morning and the only way to collect them was by wandering aimlessly outside for an hour. I would worry about altering the chemistry of her bronchio-dialotor spray tomorrow. Even with all of the ambition in the world, being sleep deprived could destroy the productivity of even the greatest champions.


	19. Day Two

**-Christine's POV**

By the time Carlotta returned to the theater for rehearsals in the morning, every dancer, chorus girl, and stagehand had already heard about her hilarious misfortune in the lobby. Spreading the tale amongst each other was not only fun, but the story also served as a warning. We were all ready for her to arrive in a foul mood.

"Look at her! She looks dreadful today doesn't she?" Meg whispered with a devilish grin plastered across her face. "Serves her right for the hell she put's us all through. I think I might be starting to like having the opera ghost around."

It was true that Carlotta looked terrible. From the corner of my eye I could tell that she'd barely bothered to apply any makeup, and that her obnoxious red hair was frazzled all along the top in desperate bunches, ribbons askew. I had to cover my mouth with both hands to keep myself from laughing and nodded. "I don't mind him so much either." I agreed, but if only I could tell Meg the facts. If only she could know _why_ I was a fan of the ghost...

My eye's trailed up to the rafters with aching longing. Today was the second day that I would have to endure without my angel nearby. Maybe he was never there with us on the roof last night at all and my imagination was simply playing tricks on me. I couldn't sense him in my room when I woke up as I always did, or now at practice. Was it possible that I only had the ability to feel him there while he was acting as my angel and not as the phantom? If that were the case, he could have been looming around anywhere and I would never know... What if he could transform in to a ghost at will?

The bang of Madame Giry's cane slamming against the wooden stage pulled me away from my thoughts and sent me toppling backwards in to Meg.

"I am so sorry!" I turned my face to mouth my apologies to her silently as she shoved me upright. Interrupting our instructor was never a wise thing to do, especially considering that she was Meg's mother.

"The ghost has demanded that the stage be thoroughly re-varnished before our upcoming performance." Giry announced, thrusting another mysterious note up in the air for everyone to see. "I understand that this was to be our last gathering until the dress rehearsal on opening night, but in order to fulfill his request on time today's overview is unfortunately cancelled."

"_Cancelled?_" We all gasped in staggered unison.

The floor was already so glossy that it could have been made out of a sheet of glass. What sort of reasoning could he possibly have to want it re-varnished? A renovation like that would be costly for the managers.

"Theese is ridiculous!" Carlotta screeched, throwing her hands on to her hips. "Taking orders from a ghost like he matters more than me, the Diva. I have no reespect for theese stupeed letters anymore. Why haunt a theater when he could rot in hell eenstead, eh? I would keel him myself if he weren't already dead!" She sounded like she was on the verge of hysterics, and from where I was standing I noticed the corner of her eye was twitching as she spoke. "All he wants is dat plain leetle toad croaking on da stage again! I weel not have it!" Piangi stood directly beside her but he seemed to be far more interested in staring down at his shoes than in listening to her complain. I had a strong feeling he'd already heard enough about the phantom last night after the lobby incident.

"He may have anticipated how upset you would be." Giry said, using her cane to spin around and start walking towards the curtain. "There is a rather large gift here for you from the ghost himself... perhaps as an apology for yesterday, I cannot be sure."

A _gift _for _Carlotta_ from _Erik?_

Every single piece of me began humming in accord with the vast grouping of emotions rushing through my veins. He was here now, I could feel it and it took a great deal of effort not to start trying to search for him. Any minute now something _big_ was about to to happen. His dark mischief was palpable in the air. The phantom was here.

All eye's were on Madame Giry as she directed a few able stage hands to wheel out a massive pine box decorated elegantly with a pink satin ribbon and laced with links of white Stephanotis. Although I hadn't seen any in years, I knew those little flowers well. My father would give me a necklace of them before we started any performance together and tell me that they were the good luck flower, and to wear them well. Even here at the theater our dance troupe traditionally dressed our vanities with them for opening night. The box was easily the size of an elephant and judging by the difficulty the men had dragging it out in to the open, and judging by the thunderous noise it made as it rolled, it weighed just as much.

_Why would he wish Carlotta good luck?_

Not even Meg who was standing right next to me noticed when a small note came down to land in front of me, seemingly out of nowhere. Heart pounding, I bent down to hastily retrieve it, looking all around me to make sure that no one had seen. It contained a single sentence, written in the same neat writing as the note left for me on my pillow the night before:

**_Take your friend and get off of the_**_** stage**._

Whatever the danger was, it must have been in the box. He had planned this.

Without a second thought I reached out to the side, took a fist full of Meg's dress, and started dragging her backwards. If anything was about to happen, I wanted to see the events unfold. For whatever the reason, the idea of witnessing another one of his genius pranks was exciting to me. It never crossed my mind to worry that my entertainment would be at the expense of others, and I knew the perfect place to go.

Meg didn't take very long to realize that we were making an escape and I was able to let go of her. I led us directly to the stairwell, up in to the second level of the theater and in to box five.

As soon as we were in the doorway she pulled me down to crouch low to the ground and shook me hard by the shoulders. "Whats-going-on?" she hissed, shaking and panic stricken. "What is the matter?"

I wanted to tell her the truth but _he_ was here, listening, somewhere... I couldn't help but to feel a tiny bit of panic too. This was _his_ reserved box and it was strictly forbidden, even to paying guests. We should have gone to the next one down but it was already too late, and this box had the best view of the stage. "I don't like the look of that gift. Don't you think it's safer to keep our distance? It is from the ghost after all, and he hates Carlotta." I gave her the first believable explanation that I could think of.

She pursed her lips and nodded slowly. "Yes, but those flowers - maybe he really is attempting to make peace with her. He's never done anything like this before."

We shrugged our shoulders and wordlessly agreed that the only way to find out would be to see for ourselves. Careful not to make a sound, we crept forward on our hands and knees to the edge of the balcony and poked our heads over the top. Carlotta was now climbing up to the last step of a stool to untie the giant pink ribbon on the top of her present with Piangi bracing her with his arms around her legs. Most of the rest of the actors and dancers that were on the stage before were filing down the isle of the theater to head home, but many of them still remained, probably almost as curious as I was.

"Where is my mother? She was only just there." Meg whispered, tapping me on the arm. "I don't see here anywhere."

I scanned the theater for any sign of her, but Madame Giry was gone. "She must have left when every one else started to."

Carlotta finally tugged the ribbon free with a cry of joy, but her happiness was quickly destroyed when her gift practically exploded apart, all four sides collapsing to the ground to unleash a massive rush of water. Piangi was blasted to the ground from the pressure causing the stool to fall and Carlotta to topple down with him. Seeing the two of them soaking wet and screaming was comical enough, but the scene became almost unbearably funny when Meg and I both realized that it was no ordinary liquid that they and the stage were now drenched in. Leaves and sticks and muddy debris cluttered every surface that the water splashed to, along with hundreds of jumping little toads. It was pond water! Whoever was still standing on the stage immediately made their escape, clambering off and in to the seats, laughing hysterically.

Amongst the chaos another note came floating down from the rafters to land in Carlotta's lap and she tore it open, read whatever it had to say, let out a shrill scream of seething anger, and then ripped it to shreds, letting the pieces fly all around her. "NEVER!" she bellowed over and over again, pounding her fists in to the ground. Each time her hands made contact with the ground the toads hopped higher and Piangi was splashed in the face.

Meg and I were braced against each other, shaking with laughter at the sight. I was glad that we'd been warned to move ahead of time. Being on the receiving end of this prank would have been absolutely awful, and having the chance to watch from these prime seats had been a gift in itself. We were laughing so hard that it hurt to speak to each other.

"I can see why he asked for the stage to be re-varnished." I giggled, still staring wide eye'd at the scene below us. His game was clear to me now, which only made it more funny for me.

"You're right!" Meg chuckled, covering her mouth with her hands. "I only wish the managers were around! Christine, this is by far the best performance I've ever seen here."


	20. The Surprise Encounter

**-Erik's POV-  
**

From where I was tucked away high above the rafters I could see that Christine and her friend had run off to box five, but I could not find it in myself to be angry at them for it. I now had the perfect view of not only Carlotta's struggle down below, but also of my angel's laughing smile only one hundred feet away. There wasn't even the smallest hint of fear in her eye's, only joy, and what a _gift_ it was to know that she appreciated all of my hard work.

In the short time that we had spent alone together, not once was my role as the phantom ever discussed but Christine was a smart girl and there was no doubt in my mind that she had to have put the pieces together by now. If that were the case, why was she not afraid, angry, or worse? Was it only a matter of time before she started to panic?

Yes, I did feel slightly guilty for all of my unintended victims who were currently still trying to squeeze their clothing dry as they exited the theater. At least I had done them the favor of warning them to re-varnish before the opening night. I had all of the staff planning ahead of time, and after the massive amount of pond water and toads flooding the stage there was bound to be a nasty mess.

When Meg stood up to leave I was able to read on her lips that she was going to try and go find her mother and the Vicomte, however Christine chose to stay behind. All alone and suddenly looking sullen, she made herself comfortable in a seat behind her and pulled her knee's up to her chest, letting her chin balance on top of them. Whatever was bothering her now, she'd been careful to hide it from her friend. I desperately tried to understand her change in disposition, but her expression was dark, glassy, and unreadable.

She sat there just like that for nearly an hour, well past when Carlotta and Piangi finally made their miserable exit. It wasn't until the stage hands were ordered the unfortunate task of collecting every last toad from the theater that she stood up to leave.

Where was she going? What was she _feeling_? I was too far away to determine anything with confidence and this left too many questions unanswered.

I hung from the ropes and dropped down to the dusty catwalk below me to get a better look at her face as she exited the stairwell, but as if she expected me to be paying attention, she kept her eye's down and wasted no time hurrying out of sight and in to the east wing.

She _knew_ that I was looming above her, there was no doubt in my mind, but she would not escape my watchful eye until I could find some indication that the reason she was upset had nothing to do with anything that I had done. If my absence alone had been enough to cause her this discomfort I would only have myself to blame. Regardless, as always the only way for me to discover any of her secrets was to follow her...

How could I have possibly convinced myself that I could stay way from my angel for five entire days? No, I had no intention of letting her see me, but to stay away for even two days had been unbearable. I still had a few more things that I hoped to accomplish before the weeks end, but the idea of a few hours watching over her as I used to filled me with guarded excitement. As long as I could avoid her taking notice to my presence, what harm could it possibly do to my plans just to be _near_ her for a while, to recharge my soul and purpose?

It did not take me long at all to find her. Any time that Christine went in to the east wing it was to select a short book from the library to take and read privately in the back garden. She only did this on day's when she had no rehearsals and when there was no one around to keep her company. The roof top was her place to think in peace, but the garden was where she went to be lonely.

Normally I would have only followed her as far as the library, but having any barriers to stop me from going to her was no longer necessary and would only serve as an obstacle... which might have been a part of the reason why I had chosen to visit her through her window the night before instead of standing behind the mirror. Today, the will to be close enough to understand her sorrow was far too strong to ignore or control. So, as soon as I could see that she had settled herself under a willow in the in the far left corner of the garden, I too stepped outside.

The grass was tall, patchy, and unkempt. Each and every bush, vine, and flower had spread out to achieve it's own space and territory taking over all of the decorative sculptures and topiary that were clearly exposed once before. I could remember a time when this place was glorious, but the garden had been for all intensive purposes abandoned by the managers and staff for several years. Not only was it inconveniently located at the end of the east side of the building away from the living quarters, earning the time for relaxation and leisure was exceedingly rare.

It was the _perfect_ landscape to hide in.

I stepped lightly, making sure to avoid any twigs and branches that could snap, and breathing only when a breeze swept through. As I covered the ground between us, each breath that I sucked in contained the familiar essence of Christine's rose oil perfume, making it easier to find her through the thick... and then it occurred to me that if I were able to smell her out, maybe that was how she had been able to notice me with her before on the roof. This notion seemed primal to me, but being down wind from her now I could understand the advantage.

**-Christine's POV-**

I thought that flipping through a picture book in the garden would relax my mind, but it did it did little to help me. I'd only looked at the first few pages before losing interest and setting it aside. I took a deep breath and lifted my face up to the sky to feel the warmth of the sun. At least it was a beautiful day, but with rehearsals cancelled I knew I'd be spending it alone. Meg would soon be off to have a good time with Raoul, and my angel was inside somewhere scheming against Carlotta.

This garden might have been a forgotten disaster, but I'd always been able to see the beauty in it and happily used it as the refuge it was originally intended to be whenever I had the time. More than half of the people who worked in the theater didn't even know if the door to come outside still led to anything, which made it even more private. However after being to Erik's fantastical meadow, this place no longer held the same charm to me as it did before. Being in my little haven beneath the ancient willow was hardly as nice as being surrounded by the protective branches of his apple tree... or maybe it was only being in his presence that had made it so wonderful.

_Oh God,_ how I missed him, and the more that I thought about it, the more I felt as if I my heart would stop beating. A part of me felt silly for worrying so much. After all, he'd only been away from me for two days, and I'd felt him watching over me before Carlotta had opened her 'present' which meant that he was still here somewhere.

Frustrated, I plopped down on my back and closed my eye's deciding that maybe if I let my imagination take me back to when he was singing to me, or when he held me in his arms, that I might feel closer to him again somehow. I concentrated on every detail that I could remember and smiled whenever my memories caused the butterflies in my stomach to tickle at my insides... and then I remembered the first time that he appeared to me and brought me to his home. He'd been less inhibited at the time, less of a gentleman. His music of the night was awakening and darkly seductive, and the way that his hands coasted freely over my hips started a fire in corners of my body that I never knew existed. I'd never felt so willingly wanton in my entire life...

"_Christine._"

The sound of his voice calling my name pulled me out of my fantasies and in to the present. Breathing hard, I bolted upright and opened my eye's. Had I only been imagining what I'd heard?

"_Chrissstine._"

No. He was here, somewhere I could _feel_ it! How had I not noticed before? My cheeks flushed, knowing that I was only distracted by my secret thoughts of him. I took the grass by my knees in to my fists as I summoned the courage to answer.

**-Erik's POV-**

I had successfully trekked through the garden and had made it all the way underneath the tree with her without her becoming aware, but to my surprise I did not find her in the condition that I was expecting to and I was completely thrown off guard. Instead she lay there in the grass lost in a daydream and smiling, oblivious to her surroundings.

_Oh, Christine._

Had I fallen in to some sort of trap? Her sadness was what drew me out of the shadows in the first place, and now her private happiness had me glued to the spot. She was such a beautiful sight to gaze upon that the space between us caused me actual physical pain. Knowing that all I would have to do to get any closer was to call out her name did not make the silence any more bearable. The promise that I had made to myself to keep away was dissolving, out of my control. Whatever pictures were dancing in Christine's mind were bringing her great pleasure, and the rosy color glowing in her cheeks gave her an allure that was impossible to resist.

_What was she feeling_? Would I always have to wonder?

I felt like a predator stalking his prey. For too long I stood and watched shamelessly as her lashes fluttered and her breast rose and fell with each breath that she took until all of my concern vanished and was replaced with such an intense longing to be closer - if only to _touch_ her again, that I was calling out to her before I could stop myself.

"_Angel I'm here, where are you?_" she replied in song, now sitting up and alert.

It was too late to turn back now, and judging by the way that her shoulders tensed and her spine straightened as I stepped directly behind her, she knew exactly where I was standing.

"Tell me my angel, what has you smiling so sweetly?" I cocked my head to the side to see her face as I asked my question. My words came out much huskier than I had wanted it do, but the images flashing through my mind were currently far from innocent, and the emotion in my voice had betrayed me.

Christine's legs trembled as she sprung to her feet to turned around and face me, but her eyes both fully dilated as they met mine, warm and full of fire and staggering _passion_. "I was thinking... about...you, missing you." her answer was slow, but undoubtedly honest, and then the corners of her mouth turned up to form a coy, feminine smile.

What was _this_? All of theses smiles, and this wondrous look in her eyes now was for _me_?

Somewhere within me the very last bit of fragile restraint that I had somehow kept preserved snapped. I _loved_ her, longed for her every waking second of every single day. I could not stay away any longer, not as I had so carefully managed to do in the past. If I could only hold her, would that be enough to keep the man in me at bay?

I edged forward to close the bothersome gap between us and she reached through my cloak to wrap her arms loosely around my waist and fell in to me with no hesitation.

What a _relief_ it was to know that she was just as eager. This contact did not debilitate me as it did once before. Instead I felt bliss and serenity, but this peaceful embrace was not enough. I wanted more. I cupped her jaw in to the palms of my hands and tipped her face up away from my chest to look in to her eyes again, to see the feelings reflecting in them once more... but it was her perfect lips that caught my attention. They were darker, fuller than I remembered them - or did they only seem that way because I was so close? One of my ultimate desires had always been to kiss her and I had easily imagined it a thousand times, in a thousand ways...

**-Christine's POV-**

His eyes sought out mine again and his brows drew together with determination and longing. He was taking deep, measured breaths, and I could feel his pulse beating as rapidly as mine was through his hand on the corner of my jaw. A few days ago if Erik had approached me this way I probably would have fainted, but I was feeling braver than before. For the second time I found myself in the position to wonder what it might have been like to kiss him. Whether I wanted to or not wasn't the question. My only worry was that he would jump away and scold me about his mask again, but at the moment that didn't seem likely to happen...

Erik dragged the fingertips of his right hand along the side of my neck, all the way down and around until they pressed in to the small of my back. He was applying just enough pressure to make me stand on my toes, and I had to reach up to hold on to his shoulders instead of his waist. He leaned in to speak softly in to my ear, resting his cheek against mine. "I want you to trust me, Christine." he purred, sending shivers down my spine and pulled back to look me in the eyes. "I _need_ you to trust me."

My heart was pounding loudly in my ears, and I knew I was losing control of myself but I also knew that this was a pivotal moment. The scared little girl inside of me was gone. I didn't mind the massive surge of energy that rushed from the ground and up through to the top of my head, it only gave me the strength the I needed to stay on my toes, and as if he could sense this sudden change in me he shifted his weight and bent lower, guiding my heels back in to the grass.

In one fleeting second he tenderly captured my top lip between his own and stole away any anxiety that might have still been left in my soul. We both let out long hitching sighs as a soothing sense of relief washed through us, and melted in to each other. His lips were warmer than I'd expected, but not nearly as firm as I thought they would be. I parted my own to take in his bottom one, casting aside all of my lady like pretenses and wanting nothing more than to taste him. He sucked in a deep breath and took hold of my shoulders, gripping them tightly, but he made no move to pull away. He opened his mouth with me, willing the kiss to continue.

Whatever doubts that I had regarding exactly what he was, I at least understood that an angel wouldn't exude such heat or virility, and the instant that I felt his tongue swipe across my own I knew for certain. He was no heavenly being at all, Erik was without question a passionate, strong and dangerously seductive _man_. Just as the way he'd always somehow been able to control my mind with his voice, with his touch he'd found a whole new way to master and posses me - only now he was controlling my body as well. As he deepened our kiss he crushed me against him I shamelessly obliged and soon we drank each other with such urgency that God himself could not have stopped us.

We could have been standing there tangled with each other for hours, but in an unmeasurable amount of time our breathing became sharp and ragged and he broke away, quickly tucking my head underneath his chin. Was something the matter? I tried to squirm backwards to see his face but his arms were solid and unrelenting around me.

"Be still." he commanded gruffly. "Your friend will be coming out to find you in less than three minutes. Forgive me. I cannot stay."

Was he referring to Meg? "How do you know that?" I asked, muffled by the base of his cravat. It felt awkward to speak in to his chest, especially after the heated passion we'd been engaged in.

"I can explain another day, but Christine I must go now. Remember I am always close by, but my work is time sensitive."

I wrapped my arms around myself and nodded solemnly. After the kiss that we had just shared, knowing that he had to leave me now was heart breaking. If he had to go, who was I to try and stop him? "Please, come back to me soon. Don't make me wait so long." I pleaded, swallowing hard.

His arms fell away from me, and he brushed his lips gently against mine one more time and smiled. "All you will ever have to do is call for me, and I will come. I do not wish for you to feel as if you are alone, that was never my intention."

**Alright guys, that's all I can do for now. I put a lot of soul in to this update, but I've only looked it over twice so I apologize if there are any stupid errors - I'll properly edit tonight! Thank you all for reading and for all of your reviews and support :)**

**A special thanks to _paisleygirl_ who has been diligently helping to keep me inspired with great conversation and amazing updates!  
**

**PS  
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**Yes, I realize that I've changed elements of Erik's past and it was COMPLETELY intentional.  
**


	21. A Bump In The Night

**Hello everyone! I am SO sorry that I've been away for such a long time. I found out that I am pregnant, and I haven't been feeling very well. Finally I found the energy in me to write some more. I apologize if there are any stupid errors in here and promise to fix them if they exist. Thank you for reading and for all of your reviews. It has really been a pleasure!**

**-Erik-**

Contrary to my original concerns, being near Christine again had not been such a terrible distraction after all. After the blissful encounter we shared together in the old garden my purpose was renewed ten fold and suddenly I found myself working twice as fast as I had been before. The sooner that all of my plans could be completed, the sooner I could have my love indefinitely by my side. _My god_ she had been more beautiful than I'd ever seen her, so innocent and still somehow so willing, and far more brave than I'd ever thought to give her credit for. I was almost thankful for Meg's interruption. If I had been alone with my angel for much longer I strongly doubted my ability to remain a gentleman... and yet at the same time I was sure that I would still have found all of the restraint in the world. Until Christine was at last my bride, she was still my delicate flower and not a single petal was to be displaced. Working harder and faster helped to distract me from the overwhelming urge that I had to seek her out again. Oh, how I wished that I never had to leave the garden in the first place. Without my mask... and without what lay hidden underneath, I could have easily stayed and spent the afternoon with Christine and her friend without a second thought.

By midnight my lair was a _complete_ disaster, but I had successfully crafted a beautiful fan for Christine out of the finest blue, black, gold textiles, and lace in my possession, and now I was adding the final ingredients to my next special gift for Carlotta. Before returning home I snuck back through the stage and nicked her original bottle, deciding it best to only use my duplicate if necessary. If I could tamper with her original piece successfully, she would never know the difference and I wouldn't have to take the risk switching the bottles out during the performance. After extensive research and careful deliberation the only ingredient that I could find that was known to be an untraceable topical analgesic was obtained from the leaves of a coca plant._ Erythroxylon Coca_, or more commonly known as cocaine was widely used as a numbing agent in dentistry, surgery, and for external pain. Abuse of the substance seemed to always lead to addiction, but there were many accepted benefits when used in proper moderation. Luckily I just so happened to have a small vial of the stuff buried in my medical supplies. The only trouble I had was deciding on the most smallest effective and yet still harmless dosage. I was not hoping to achieve total destruction of her voice, only her ability to sing. If I'd guessed properly and mixed the spray _just right_, Carlotta would still at least be able to speak. Of course, being the humane torturer that I was, I knew that I was going to have to test out the spray on myself. Only then would I be sure of it's effectiveness.

I cleared away my mess from creating the fan to make a new work space on my writing desk, placed the spray bottle in the very center, and braced myself with both hands on the edge. The liquid inside held a golden hue similar to that of bourbon, and after adding my own special ingredients there was no detectable change in color or consistency. It certainly_ looked_ harmless enough but the very last thing that I ever wanted to do in my lifetime was use a faulty voice aide, let alone tamper with unregulated substances. The very idea of putting myself in a position where I would be out of control absolutely horrified me, but this was for science, this was for Christine... and dear Carlotta. My only solace was the fact that however interesting the effects might be, they would only be temporary and my voice would return to it's original state.

Before wasting any more time to worry myself about the repercussions of my decision, I took a deep breath, lifted the bottle, and sprayed it directly in to the back of my throat two times. I realize that this was only half of the typical dosage that Carlotta would have preferred but the spray tasted like anise candy and I was instantly nauseated.

"Out of all of the flavors modernly available, _of course_ the witch would choose my least favorite." I hissed to myself as I set back down the bottle but I was pleased to discover that I could still speak. In retrospect it probably would have been a good idea to have had a glass of water nearby to wash the stuff down. Carlotta wouldn't be worried about the taste though, more than likely after using the spray she would head straight back on to the stage to continue her 'singing' without wasting any more time.

I turned to face the cavern, sucked in some air, and attempted to belt out a simple scale. The hilarious croaking sound that came out of my mouth was so horrid and completely unrecognizable that I didn't dare sing more than two notes. I found myself doubled over hoarsely laughing instead as two grayling's broke water in the lake in front of me. Even the fish were disturbed! If Carlotta decided to ignore my warnings and take the lead again, the death of her pathetic career was imminent. She would use this spray and squawk in front of all of Paris and the embarrassment would ruin her.

"_Angel_..."

Somehow above my echoing laughter I could hear Christine's call and quickly silenced myself. It was well passed midnight. What could she possibly still be doing awake? Was something wrong?

"_Angel are you there, Angel are you listening_?"

My chest instantly tightened with panic and guilt. Of course she would sing out to me now, when for the first time I could not possibly risk trying to reply in song without sounding like an animal. I could think of no other alternative aside from going straight to her, and fast enough that she would not spend a minute worrying about my lack of an answer.

Luckily I had a few other ways to reach her that didn't involve the long trip on the gondola. I chose the fastest path, which just so happened to be the darkest and most harrowing because I never bothered to complete it's construction, but the journey to the mirror only took me a few minutes and that was all that mattered.

"_Christine, Christine._" I cooed breathlessly through the glass as I fiddled with the latches at the side. All of her candles were still burning brightly and I could see her sitting wide awake at the end of her bed facing the door. As soon as she heard my voice she bolted across the room to greet me, but as I stepped over the threshold I could see that something was troubling her. Anxiety was evident throughout her features but what was most prominent was her very pale skin and dark exhausted eyes. Was_ I_ the reason that she was upset?

She threw her arms around me without a moments hesitation and let out a long, shaky sigh of relief. "I thought that you couldn't hear me when I called for you. I hope that you weren't busy."

No, she was not upset with me, it was something else. I smiled warily and kissed the top of her head before stepping back to get a better look at her face. "Of course I heard you but Christine, it is far too late for you to be awake. Why are you not asleep in bed?"

Her eyes darted first to the bedroom door, and then back to me. "Maybe my imagination is only getting the better of me, but I swear that I can hear someone pacing up and down the hall. Once I think that they even tried to turn the handle on my door but I always lock it before I lay down to sleep." she explained to me in a hushed tone, worried that she would be overheard. "I knew that it couldn't have been you because I've never seen you use a door, and it can't be Meg because she would have knocked first...she would have said something instead of shuffling away."

I had always regarded myself as somewhat of a vigilance expert when it came to Christine and her welfare. Why was it that on this one single night that I needed to focus on other tasks, something needed to go wrong? What if she hadn't locked her door and whoever it was had gotten inside? Why did this also have to happen on the night that I just so happened to intentionally administer a stimulant to myself? I was truly feeling it now, the acute alertness and the strange edge of confidence associated with the drug. A part of me was thrilled to know that this was another side effect associated with the spray beside the loss of a controlled singing voice. Along with Carlotta's mortified embarrassment she would also experience an induced sense of panic. A weak mind like hers would not be able to resist such an emotional upheaval.

What I should have done was proceed with caution by using the tunnels to reach the trap door that I had installed in the hallway. Instead I could think of no better option than to approach the situation head on. There was no existing man or beast that had ever been able to defeat me before. If there really was anyone out in the hallway that was trying to break in to Christine's room, they would soon regret it.

"I will take care of this," I promised, throwing my cloak around her shoulders and gesturing for her to step through the mirror. "And you will stay tucked away behind this mirror. Lock the latches as soon as it closes, and if I do not return within no more than five minutes, take the path to Caeser. No matter what you hear or how worried you are do not come back to the surface. I will meet you when I am finished."

The guttural scream of a woman sounded from somewhere deep inside the Opera House. Being the one who usually spread the fear amongst the people who lived in the place, I was extremely surprised. Who else could possible have the nerve to disrupt my theater in the middle of the night? Christine was so startled that she practically fell in to the tunnel behind the mirror and covered her mouth with both hands to stop herself from crying out in horror.

"This is more complicated than just a man pacing outside of your room." I hissed, stepping through the mirror to join her. "Forget what I said about the horse, I am going to show you a path that will lead you to my home and I expect you stay there until I return."

Christine bit down on her bottom lip and drew her brows together, more than likely struggling to avoid arguing with me about hiding out in my lair alone. I took her hand in to mine and led her to the narrow opening of the dark passageway that I had traveled through to reach her earlier. It pained me to put her through the fear that I knew that she would feel while she walked down the path, but this was the fastest way and I knew that she would be safe.

"You want _me_ to go in _there_?" She regarded the opening with severe apprehension and huddled in to my side. "How will I find my way without you?"

It was true, without a light and without knowing what there was to trip over, Christine would have a difficult time navigating her way through. I leaned backwards, took a firm hold on the base of one of the lit cherub candle arms, and ripped it clean off of the wall.

"Take this with you and do not worry Christine. It is a very short path and there are plenty of things that I'm sure you'll find to do to keep yourself preoccupied once you get there."

Wide eyed, she reached out and carefully took the candle arm out of my hand with a weak little smile. "I trust you, I only worry about your safe return. Please be careful?" She pleaded, placing a hand on my chest. "I will have no way of knowing if you are in danger."

_Oh, Christine. _Even though she had nothing to worry about it was a strangely pleasant feeling to know that she was concerned for my safety._  
_

"Don't you know who I am Christine?" I asked cautiously. This was the moment when I would find out if she had pieced together my existence yet. I desperately wanted to know.

Her eyes fell to the floor and she shifted her weight from side to side. Perhaps this was a topic she had never wished to discuss... "Yes Erik, I know who you are."

Based on solely her body language alone, I could not possibly judge how exactly she felt about my being the phantom but I was relieved to see that at least she did not appear to be angry with me about it. "Then you should know that this theater is my playground, and that there is not a single chance of anyone seeing me let alone lay a finger on me without my permission."

Her eyes rose back up to meet with mine and she smiled at me. "It never occurred to me to think that way." She chuckled. I could tell that she was still nervous and worrying, but not as badly as she was before. "I'll be waiting for you."

My beloved Christine would be safe and waiting in my home for my return. Just imagining finding her there later caused my heart to swell with immeasurable pride. This was the first time I ever had the chance to have someone to come home to. Would she allow me to kiss her again, if only to express my secret gratitude?

I bent down and gently brushed my lips along hers, and then before I could stop myself I also found the small beautiful space under her ear. Just as I'd imagined, her skin was marvelously smooth. To my surprise she leaned in to me eagerly and I could hear her breath hitch in her throat the moment that we made contact. It was as if that one tiny little spot was somehow_ more_ than just a simple patch of delicate skin. Pulling away from her to stand upright was agonizing and so was trying to ignore the liquid fire that was now plainly visible in her eyes. She no longer looked tired at all...

I bowed and gave her an encouraging push towards to passageway. "I will return soon enough my love. You will be safe here without me until then. After all, I am the most dangerous being in this entire facility."


	22. Update on story status

**I feel so terrible for not updating all of this time and I am SO sorry. I've received several messages and reviews asking if I plan to continue on with this story and the answer is absolutely YES. I have at least half of a chapter hammered out and plan to spend the majority of this coming Thursday figuring out the rest. I hope you all can forgive me for the huge gap between updates :( I've been very focused on my pregnancy and getting ready for all of the upcoming changes :) We are five months along now and are expecting a baby girl!  
Anyway, I miss my Erik and Christine and can't wait to finish this next chapter. Thank you very much to everyone who has been keeping tabs on my story. I promise not to leave you in suspense for too much longer!**


	23. Making Friends

**-Erik-**

After I was sure that Christine was far away from danger and out of earshot, I casually put out the candles in her room and pressed my back up against the wall next to the doorway. From out in the hall it would appear as though Christine had finally given up worrying and gone back to bed. I was banking on the stalker taking this false signal and attempting to come inside again once he was sure she'd fallen asleep. This time he would not get the chance to find the frightened girl that he was looking for.

Standing there in the dark with nothing interesting to stimulate my unusually heightened senses, I could not help but notice that my heart was beating just a little too fast. I could feel it thumping in my chest and hear my pulse beating furiously within my ear drums. The more that I tried not to worry myself about it the more acutely aware that I became. _Damn. _In retrospect perhaps it would have been best if I had not bothered to test my gift for Carlotta on myself. The spray and it's affects only seemed to increase with the passing of time. Was this at last the plateau or was this only the beginning? One thing was for sure. If I did not find an outlet for this bursting new energy soon I would certainly go insane.

Against my better judgment I decided to instigate my progress. I tapped the door handle and after only needing to give it a small amount of force it swung wide open, eerily creaking on it's hinges until it made contact with a large vase stationed behind it and stopped with a dull thud. The average person would have needed to risk giving away their plan and position by twisting the handle, but I knew the sweet spot - the exact amount of pressure that was necessary to make the door practically jump open on it's own. Now it was only a matter of time...

Another frightened screech echoed from somewhere in the distance. With the door wide open I was able to detect that the struggle was coming from somewhere inside the theater itself, and sounded very much like Meg. Whoever was causing Christine such distress earlier was more than likely the same predator assaulting her friend. There would be no need for me to wait for him in her bedroom. Meg was Madame Giry's only daughter, and Christine's closest friend. Although my interpretation of friendship usually tended to be a bit skewed, I was completely aware of the fact that Meg's death would destroy Christine. Over the years the two had developed a special sort of propinquity that was usually only observed between kin.

I stepped through the doorway and in to the corridor, pausing briefly to listen in all directions. How strange that not a single person had stirred from sleep with all of the chaos happening so close by. A very large part of me was hoping that someone - anyone else would hear Meg's cries and go to her rescue so that I would not have to intervene. Any time in the past that I had performed a good deed that was noticed by anyone it took twice as many terrible deeds to be properly feared by the opera house again. It was their fear of me that fueled their ongoing obedience.

**-Meg (surprise!)-**

"How much longer were ya expecting us to chase ya lass? You've seen too much. We can't let ya go. " the tall bearded one teased.

He took a step forward and I flinched backwards, shaking the rope suspended catwalk that we were standing on. The other perp was creeping up behind me and I knew that I'd been trapped. The only escape that I could think of would have been to jump and pray to god that I didn't die when I hit the ground. Bouquet once had an apprentice who fell and lived, but I would never forget the awful crunching sound that followed when he broke both of his legs on the hard wood of the stage. I peeked over the edge to gauge the distance but it was so dark down below that I could barely make out the ground.

Why couldn't I have just minded my own business when I saw these men lurking outside of Christine's door? I would've had the time to run and find able bodied men to get rid of these creeps. Now it was too late and even though I tried my hardest to get away from them, they'd caught up and now they were going to kill me or worse. "Let me go!" I sobbed desperately, gripping the ropes at my sides. "I swear I wont tell a soul that I've seen you here! No one will know!"

"Perhaps we could let her prove to us that she isn't going to go telling anyone we've been here? Girls got a pretty mouth..." the other man chimed in menacingly from over my shoulder.

Please god no! Why couldn't I find the courage to jump the catwalk? At least then if I was going to die it would be my own decision. Obviously there was no point in crying for help. If anyone could hear me they probably didn't care. I wouldn't be the first dancer to be killed or taken advantage of in the theater at night and I wouldn't be the last. I covered my eyes with my hands and held my breath. If they were going to snatch me up now I hoped they'd give me a quick death and nothing else.

In a matter of seconds I felt a rope being thrown around my body and cinched tightly. What was this? Were they kidnapping me now? I squealed in terror and uncovered my eyes, ready to protest, but after looking in front and behind me I could see that my attackers were just as confused as I was. Neither one of them had the other end of the rope in their hands because it had come from somewhere above me. I looked up just in time to catch the gleam of something white flash in the darkness and a cold sweat spread out all over my skin. Even worse than being tortured by my human attackers, I had been lassoed by the Opera Ghost! Why oh why did I have to have that last glass of water before bed? Maybe then I wouldn't have woken up to take a trip to the latrine and I would still be snuggled up safe in bed.

Before I even had the chance to scream any slack left in the rope was tightened and I was jerked up and over the side of the catwalk in one giant swoop. My last thoughts as I fell towards the stage were of my mother, Christine, and Raoul and how horrible it was that I would never be able to say goodbye to any of them... but the crash that I was expecting never came and I was _still _falling. The air whooshing past my ears turned cold and damp and my bottom came in to contact with a slope. Suddenly I was sliding and losing speed, spiraling down towards a bright light at the end of a tunnel. Was this the end? Had I actually died when I hit the stage and the oncoming light that I was seeing Heaven?

When I finally fell through the hole it wasn't Heaven that I'd found at all. Just a small room carved out of stone full of pretty pillows with a softly padded floor to break my fall and my best friend sitting comfortably opposite of where I landed with a book in her hands.

"Meg!" she screamed, so startled by my dropping in that she threw her book up in to the air. "What are you _doing_ here?!"

**-Erik-  
**

While it gave me some anxiety to know that I had literally just dumped a new visitor in to my world without my being there to supervise, it seemed like the right thing to do at the time. Christine would be there and they could keep each other company until I returned. I was sure that considering the circumstances that Christine would explain as much as she could to her friend before being frightened or confused by my appearance. Perhaps after tonight my relationship with my angel would gain it's very first ally - and who better to have on our side than her closest friend?

After watching their prey be seemingly plucked out of thin air and dropped from the catwalk, the intruders wasted hurried back down to the stage to investigate. This was not the normal reaction that I was accustomed to. Normally any witnesses to something so strange would have ran away and asked questions later but these two were curious enough to look for a body. One of them was portly and tall with an untamed beard that reached to his chest and the other was just as tall, but thin and much younger.

"She can't be down here boss!" the thinner one whispered. "There was no crash!"

"Well, we saw her fall so she must have hit the ground." the bearded one grumbled. "We can't have any witnesses and Piangi will not pay us if we don't get rid of the other one that we came here for."

Ah, so these men were hired to come and eliminate Christine from the competition. I doubted that this plan was entirely Piangi's idea. There was no doubt that I disliked the man for many reasons but I had never known him as the malicious type. More than likely Carlotta had asked him for this favor because she did not want the crime connected to herself. Obviously Piangi had hired the cheapest duo he could find because these two men were definitely not professionals.

While I observed the mediocre bounty hunters pacing the stage from above I struggled with trying to decide how I was going to handle them. It seemed like I had no choice but to end their lives and make an example out of them. How was I ever going to properly focus on my plans for Christine with Carlotta constantly disrupting me with all of these aggravating obstacles? It wasn't that I enjoyed the idea of killing them. I could usually respect a working man regardless of his profession but these two were foolish enough to be hired by my enemy to murder my one and only love, and had just been planning to violate and kill her closest friend which was completely unacceptable. Who knows what they would have done if they'd managed to get their hands on Christine as well...

_Damn_. I used my lasso to drop Meg through the trap door - which was probably the very first good deed that my rope had every been a part of but that did not help me now. It was not my usual style to kill without it. My lasso had always been the perfect option. Death by asphyxiation was easily one of the cleanest, reliable, and most quiet ways to die.

While the bearded ones back was turned, I unwrapped the cummerbund from my waist, secured both ends around my wrists, and lithely dropped down behind the skinny one. His neck was so long and thin that after throwing the fabric around it and giving his head one nasty whack in the wrong direction, his spine cleanly snapped and he was gone. I carefully guided his body down to the ground to avoid making any noise and made quick work of his partner before he could notice a thing. Neither one of them ever saw my face or gave me any struggle. Catching them off guard was definitely the best decision that I could have made... Now what creative plan could I come up with for their bodies?

**-Christine-**

"So, are you going to tell me what _you're_ doing here?" Meg asked after explaining her ordeal in the theater, and the fact that she had absolutely idea how exactly she ended up in the lair but knew that the phantom was involved. She settled down in the pillows beside me and took my hands in hers, eager to hear my explanation.

If Erik dropped her down with me on purpose, surely he knew that I would have to tell her the truth. There was no way that Meg was getting back up to the surface without meeting him so wouldn't it be unfair of me to lie to her about the whole thing? Somehow lying seemed like it would be easier than telling the truth. Could I not find it in myself to face it?

I pulled away from Meg and walked over to the balcony overlooking Erik's vast instrument collection which shined through the darkness. I gripped the railing and squeezed my eyes shut, forcing the words to come out. "It was the phantom who saved you Meg, and the phantom is also my teacher. My angel of music is the one who haunts this opera house. This place is his home..."

"This is where he _lives_?" Meg asked incredulously.

"Yes. He brought me here to protect me from the men that attacked you! They were trying to break in to my room."

"Isn't he... ugly and cruel?"

"My goodness, no!" I laughed and turned around to face her again. How relieving it was to know that she wasn't angry with me! "I've told you before, he is a beautiful man, kind and gentle. You'll see when you meet him that he's nothing like all of the stories Bouquet tells us. Think about all of the thing's he's done to Carlotta!"

Meg bit her bottom lip and scrunched up her shoulders. "We _have_ had a good laugh every time he's done something wicked to her... but remember, mother says that he's killed a man... I do hope that he took care of the evil men who were after us tonight..."

**That's all for today! Thank you for your patience, for taking the time to read my story, and for your reviews! I promise to edit this properly when I get the chance. I just reeaaalllly wanted to at least get my update out there finally. **


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